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THE 




OF 



ARTS, LITERATURE, COMMERCE, 

Manufactures^ Fashions^ and Politics^ 

For JULY, 1812. 
VOL. VIII. 



ty Jfortt? tfjiiD dumber. 



EMBELLISHMENTS; 

1. View of Maidstone ........ 

2. Polito's Menagerie, Exeter Change 

3. Ladies' Evening D.ess ....... 

4. Promenade Dress ....... 

5. French Curtain ........ 

<>. Allegorical Woou-cut, with 'Patterns of British Manufactures 
7. Patterns for Needll-Wokk ...... 

COyTENTS. 



PAGE 

1* 
27 
43 
ib. 
52 
S3 
5i 



44 



<!5 



PAGE 

Conversations on the Arts, hv Juninus J 
On the Origin of the Melodrama, 

with Biographical Notes anil Anec- 
dotes relating to the Composer 

Benda, its Inventor .... G 
Old Gregory; horn the unpublished 

Tale of Trick and Trifle; or, The 

Man of Sentiment, by George 

Fitz-George 11 

Description of Maidstone ... II- 
The Modern Spectator, No. XVI. 17 
Extracts from the Correspondence of 

an eminent Physician . . 21 

Fragments, Anecdotes, &c. . . 22 
On Commerce, No. XXI. . . . 2d 
Description of Polito's Menagerie, 

Exeter Change 27 

Etymological Novelties, No. III. 3 1 

Intelligence, Literary, Scientific, &c. '35 
Musical Review. — Bishop's Music to 

the Virgin of the Sun — Mugnie's 

L'Amour pique — Clemenli and 

Co.'s Collection of Rondos, &c. 

Nos. 53 and 54 — Rolfe'a six Diver- H 

Persons who reside abroad, and who wish to be supplied with this Work every Month as 
published, may have it sent to them, free of Postage, to New- York, Halifax, Quebec, ami 
to any Part of the West Indies, at i'4 J2s. per Annum, by Mr. Thorxiiili, of the General 
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any Part of the Mediterranean, at £4 12s per Annum, by Mr. Serjeant, of the General 
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subscribing, for either 3, 6, 9, or 12 months. 



PACT 

timentos — Mugnie's La Colombe 
reperdue — Schultz's six Variations 
for the Harp — Horsley's Maid of 
Toro — Wesley's Deserter's Medi- 
tations 33 

Fashions for Ladies 43 

Twenty -fourth Letter from a youncc 
Lady in London to her Sister in the 
Country ......... 

Retrospect of Politics.— Spanish Pe- 
ninsula — Spanish Colonies — North 
of Europe — Naval Intelligence — 
Domestic Intelligence .... 

Fashionable Furniture .... 

Medical Report ib. 

Agricultural Report 53 

Allegorical Wood-cut, with Patterns ib. 

Poetry 54 

London Markets 59 

Meteorological Table — Manchester 60 
Meteorological Table — London . c"l 
Prices of Companies' Shares . . ib. 
Prices of Stocks 02 



TO OUR READERS AND CORRESPONDENTS. 



We earnestly solicit communications (post paid ) from the professors of the arts in 
general, as vjelt as authors, respecting works which they may have in hand. We con- 
ceive that the evident advantage which must accrue to both from the more extensive 
publicity that will be given to their productions through the medium of the Repository, 
needs only to be mentioned, to induce them to favour us with such information, which 
shall always meet with the most prompt attention. 

Vasco de Gama's Observations on the Commercial Intercourse with Africa are re- 
ceived, and xv ill probably find a place in our next Number. 

The Correspondent who transmitted the Lines of Ninon de l'Enclos is informed, 
that we shall endeavour to make room for them among our Miscellaneous Anecdotes. 

Our Poetical Correspondents will perceive by our present Number, that we have not 
relinquished that interesting department of the Repository, but have made a perma- 
nent arrangement for the introduction of their favours, which are earnestly solicited, 

A Biographical Account of Mr. Wolf], the celebrated Musical Composer, is re- 
ceived, and is intended for our next publication. 

At the commencement of a new Volume of our Work, ive beg leave to remind such of 
our Readers as have imperfect sets, of the necessity of an early application for the 
deficient Numbers, in order to prevent disappointment. Those who chuse to return 
their Numbers to the Publisher, may have them exchanged for VQlumes in u variety of 
bindings, at the rate of 4s. 6d. per Volume. 



THE 



3&epo£ttorp 



OF 



ARTS, LITERATURE, COMMERCE, 

Manufactures, Fashions, and Politics, 
For JULY, 1S1-2. 



SZ\)t jfornj4l;trD dumber. 



-The suffrage of the wise, 



The praise that's worth ambition, is atlain'd 
By sense alone, and dignity of mind. 



AltVSTROXG. 



I 



CONVERSATIONS ON ' 
(Continued from 

Miss Eve. Have you any poe- 
try by any other of the successful 
candidates ? 

Miss K. Yes ; here is a piece 
by the gentleman who gained the 
second prize. It is an epilogue, 
spoken at the Richmond theatre by 
Mrs. Jordan, in July 1791, when 
taking leave of that place fur the 
season ; written for the occasion by 
W. H. Banbury, Esq. : — 

Here doora'd no longer or to romp or sing, 
Or as a beau in breeches be the thing ; 
To lnem'ry still shall all your sports appear, 
The sprightly pastimes I have witness'd here ; 
F.acb manly exercise the greeu adorning, 
The list the ev'ning, and the bat the morning; 
Butchers full gallop, or a baker's harrow, 
Annoying ladies in the lanes so narrow ; 
Nags who, knock'd up, refuse to mount the 

hill, 
Yet find their way at last into the bill. 
By wives molested not, or country cousins, 
Here bucks come down to pay their ramps 

and dozens, 
And dare no more than does become a man, 
To be as little losers us they can. 
Methinks a poet here of any kind, 
Or gay, or pensive, may a subject find ; 

No. XLIII. Vol. VIII. 



HIE ARTS.— By Jumnus. 
vol. VII. p. 323 .) 

I Here both sprii.g-guns and sparagrass- abound, 
And plumbs and sleel-traps spread their lures 

around ; 
In golden barges where the city dames, 
\ Lugg'd by a horse up great old father Thames, 
! Midst waving streamers and tobacco fumes, 
| Nodding to drums and trumpets Dollniun's 
plumes ; 

I Where belles in boats sit broiling in the sun, 

1 Ai;d maids of honour rum out hot at one; 
Where ?\Iiss, ber flame exposing with her face 
To flirt and ogle finds both time aud place, 
Fishing by turns for compliments and dace: 

: Here I, alas! no longer shall hare leisure, 
To gape at parties, as they're eall'd, of 

pleasure ; 
No more in such gay doings must partake, 
But from my comic lethargy awake ; 
Leave off this strain, and tune my note anew: 

' And bid to Richmond a more food adieu. 
Richmond, where Nature's paitial baud is 

trae'd, 
With all ber richest charms supremely grae'd, 
Can I, unmov'd, your friendly mansions :!v, 
Or quit these scenes without a grateful sigh ? 
For you your smiles to Jobsou's wife extended, 
I Aud Iter gown gone, poo. Beatrice befriended ; 

ICaress'd Hyppolita and all her pranks, 
: And sure Miss Peggy owes yon in i'.y thanks, 
The gallant Sylvia could sou:e mirth a:!orJ, 
And little Fickle sung, and \ou encor'd. 
May this last effort for indulgence sue, 
And be the last, not least approv'd by you' 

B 



CONVERSATIONS ON THE ARTS. 



Farewell ! what pleasure does re flection cause, 
Ami dear remembrance of your kind applause, 
Applause that bauish'd each intruding care, 
And rais'd this little frame to welkin air! 
Once more adiea — parting is such sweet 

sorrow, 
That I could say good night till it were mor- 
row. 

Miss Eve. Who is Sir John 
Suckling that you mentioned among 
the men of genius who decided the 
prizes ? 

Miss A". He was an excellent 
poet, the son of Sir John Suckling; 
lie was born at Witham, in Essex, 
in 1GI3, and died in 1642, at the 
age of* 29. 

Miss Eve. Have you any of his 
poetry ? 

Miss K. My dear Miss Eve, 
how few girls have such a love for 
the arts and poetry as you ! Most 
of our sex at our age are like Fon- 
tenelle's girl pursued by Apollo. 

Miss Eve. How was that ? 
Miss K. 

I am, cried Apollo, when Daphne he wno'd, 
And panting for breath the coy virgin pursued, 
When his wisdom in manner most ample 

ex press' d 
The long list of the graces his godship pos- 
sess 1 d : 

I'm the god of sweet song, and inspirer of lays, 
ISot for lays or sweet song the fair fugitive 

stays; 
I'm the god of the harp—stop, my fairest ! — 

in vain — 
]\ot the harp or the harper could fetch her again. 

Ev'ry plant, ev'ry flow'r, and their virtues I 

know, 
God of light Tin above, and of physic below. 
At the dreadful word physic the nymph fled 

more fast, 
At the fatal word physic she doubled her 

haste. 

Thou fund god of wisdom, then alter thy 
phrase, 

Bid her view thy young bloom and thy ravish- 
ing rays ; 

Till her less of thy knowledge, and more of 
thy charms, 

And my life for't the damsel will fly to thy 
urms. 



Miss Eve. I forgot to ask you if 
Richmond was not formerly called 
Sheen. 

Miss K. Yes ; King Henry VII. 
built a palace there, and altered the 
name of the place to Richmond, 
from his own title (the Duke of 
Richmond), before his accession to 
the throne, on the defeat and death 
of Richard III. at Bos worth, near 
Leicester, August 22, 148*5. 

Here is some poetry by Sir John 
Suckling, who wrote several plays. 
Me was very remarkable for the 
gaiety of his dress and the polite- 
ness of his address, and raised a 
regiment for Charles I. which he 
himself commanded. This piece 
is a ballad written on occasion of a 
wedding, and gives an idea of the 
manners of the beginning of the 
17th century. 

Miss Eve. Suckling copied Na- 
ture — I particularly admire these 
two verses : 

Her cheeks so rare a white was on, 
No daisy makes comparison, 

Who sees them is undone ; 
For streaks of red were mingled there, 
Such as are on a Katherine pear, 

The side that's next the sun. 

Her lips were red, and one was thin, 
Compar'd to that was next her chin, 

Some bee had stung it newly : 
But, Dick T her eyes so guard her face, 
1 durst no more upon them gaze, 

Than on the sun in July. 

I should like, my dear Miss K. 
for us at some future time, to view, 
in disguise, the face of genuine, 
unadulterated nature. A few freaks 
of this kind would much contribute 
to improvement, and, if well ma- 
naged, might be enjoyed with inno- 
cence. There is but little risk if 
we could well sustain our parts. 
We have each of us a tongue, and 



CONVERSATIONS ON TUT. A UTS. 



3 



plenty of money, that would soon 
extricate us from any adverse acci- 
dent. — There i-. a humorous idea in 
a print which I have seen of an 
officer stealing an heiress in the 
pight, bj' means of a rope-ladder 
fastened to her chamber-window. 
They are going on a matrimonial 
excursion to Scotland) but are de- 
lected by the watchman, who, on 
receiving a purse of guineas, seems 
much delighted, and says, " Now 
would you go to bribe an honest 
watchman, and with such a trille 
too?" — Shakspeare makes Wolsey 
say, " Then I shall feel the bles- 
sedness of being little !" 

Miss A'. Pope observes, that 
though the rich are separated from 
many of the wants of the poor, they 
are cut oft' from many of their com- 
forts too. 

Miss Eve. It is a common say- 
ing, that one half of the world knows 
not how the other half lives. Sup- 
posing ourselves disguised to see 
genuine nature; in order to be 
Hail fellow well met, as the saying 
is, we should never seem above our 
company, nor much below it. The 
other day, as I was walking along 
the street — it was either a holiday, 
or there had been some sight for 
these people — I passed two parties 
of the lower class that had just met. 
One of these parties wanted the other 
to go and drink, as I suppose, at 
some alehouse. " Come along, come 
along," said one with a very insi- 
nuating smile, " you see we are all 
brother chips alike." Rich, dressy 
people often only oppress. Though 
great apparent respect is paid them, 
they are only borne with, while 
equals or inferiors have the heart, 
and are enjoyed. 

Miss A". Equality is so requisite 



lo friendship, that it is observed bv 
a high authority, on this account, 
a kin^ is without a friend. Thus a 
levelling principle, ordained by 
nature, goes through the world. 

Miss Eve. If we aimed at ob- 
serving genuine nature among the 
lower orders of the people in our 
present dress, we should be disap- 
pointed. Suppose, for instance, we 
were to call at a public-house at 
Billingsgate, the landlady would 
probably say, " Pray, ladies, please 
to walk into the parlour" — and thus 
we should be shut up in some dirty 
hole; but with loose (rowsers and 
silk handkerchiefs about our necks, 
we might easily obtain the privilege 
of a genuine survey. W we could 
sustain our parts somewhat as Mrs. 
Jordan could, we might acquire at 
the fountain-head that theory of 
of which Reynolds speaks, when 
he says, " Theory is the knowledge 
of \\ hat is truly nature." 

1 can now, in imagination, see a 
group of fish women and girls — fish- 
fags, as they are called — in a social 
•rossip, perhaps waiting for the tide 
to bring up the raackarcl, maids, 
haddock, eels, lobsters, oysters, 
crabs, shrimps, periwinkles, her- 
rings, or sprats, enjoying their jolly 
joys, one with her hand in her bo- 
som, with such satisfaction in her 
countenance, just at the moment of 
catching a . 

Miss A". Reynolds observes, that 
(here is an elegant way of expressing 
every thing, and that Virgil, in 
his Gcorgics, even threw the dung 
on the land with a grace. Rey- 
nalds himself had much of this 
elegance. When criticising a pic- 
ture by a celebrated Dutch master, 
he saj-s, U At a distance, under ;i 
hedge, is a shepherd, who seems 
B 2 



CONVERSATIONS ON THE ARTS, 



(o be catching fleas, or something 
worse." How elegantly this is ex- 
pressed ! 

Miss Eve. I have heard of an 
Italian singer in this country, for 
whom an occasional song was writ- 
ten in English to be sung at a pub- 
lic concert, at which the queen was 
to be present. This song was learn- 
ed with great care. One of the 
lines was — 

And call the queen to chaste delights — 

which was unfortunately thus meta- 
morphosed by the foreigner : 

And call de keen to catch de 1 — e. 

I sat near her majesty at the time, 
and next to one of her maids of 
honour, Miss Bumey (now Mrs. 
Fanny D'Arblay), the ingenious 
novelist, the author of Cecilia, 
Evelina, and some other first-rate 
performances of that kind. 

Miss K. Now you talk of novels, 
read Theodore Cyphon, or the Be- 
nevolent Jew. 

Miss Eve. But I was talking of 
studying genuine nature at Billings- 
gate. There, perhaps, I should 
see one of the females of whom I 
have been speaking, drinking a glass 
of gin or Nelson's cordial in style, 
poking out her lips and shutting 
her eyes, while the juice was run- 
ning down, enjoying it; and then, 
with a twist of her arm, giving the 
glass or pewter measure to an at- 
tendant public-house girl, with such 
importance and enjoyment. These 
persons neither know nor care any 
thing about the rich. Of such I 
would make sketches from nature, 
and catch the passing expression. 

Miss K. A humorous painter 
might see a great deal in his depart- 
ment in the public-houses about 
Wapping. 



Miss Eve. Yes ; there, in sailors' 
dresses, when it gets dark soon, wc 
might be like fish in water. The 
girls would soon swarm about such 
a neat, pretty sailor as you would 
be. I should enjoy their studied, 
funny ways in observing what they 
would be at. By my pronunciation 
1 should be taken for a foreign 
sailor ; but we should take care not 
to let them approach too close, 
otherwise we might be suspected. 
f really think, that, somewhat like 
Mrs. Jordan, I could sustain the 
character of Macheath at the head 
of a table. This, I know, would 
be extremely improper for girls in 
general; but we are peculiar ge- 
niuses, and great eccentricity is in- 
variably attendant on genius, and 
has ever been allowed and even ad- 
mired in it. I would sing this song 
of Gay's : 

If the mind of a man is oppress'd with cares, 
His grief is expelPd when a woman appears ; 
Like the notes of a fiddle, she sweetly, sweetly 
Rouses our spirits and charms our ears. 

Roses and lilies her cheeks disclose, 
But her ripe lips are more sweet than those ; 
Press her, caress her, with blisses her kisses 
Dissolve us in pleasure and soft repose. 

This would please, for as Pope 
observes, 

Men, some to business, some to pleasure take, 
But tv'ry woman is at heart a rake. 

This would be to me a perfect 
Royal Academy, I would observe 
how the tiddler inclined his head, 
and swayed his body; whether his 
elbow was higher or lower than his 
hand ; whether in going backwards 
and forwards the strokes of his fid- 
dle-slick were long or short, high- 
er or lower, with the motion, the 
turn of his hand, the play of his 
fingers, and the whole attitude. I 
would notice in what manner the 



CONVERSATIONS ON THE A UTS. 



girls dressed, the arrangement of 
their ribbons and top-knots, the 
footing of their dances, their whims, 
their conceits, and their expressions. 
I would also observe \Uc furniture, 
anil make notes and sketches as soon 
as convenient, that I might not for- 
get any thing worthy of remark. 
I would endeavour to improve what 
I observed by my imagination, am! 
if a thought at any time came into 
my mind I would secure it by com- 
mitting it immediately to paper. 1 
would .attend to the humours of the 
Wapping landlady ; what methods 
she took to net the cash ; whether 
she used double chalk, or w fiat were 
her arts. 

Many of the humorous artists 
Avon Id design from the barrenness of 
the human mind, or miss the beau- 
ties that nature so amply furnishes. 
These are either tame or extrava- 
gantly oulrt. In the landlady of 
whom I was just speaking, they 
would lose the leer, the wink, the 
squint, the laugh, the frown, the 
wagging of her jaws, and a thou- 
sand peculiarities in her features, 
expression, and dress, that might 
easily be secured by this method of 
procedure. IJut an artist should 
preserve his innocence in these 
scenes, and not drink what George 
Morland would call for, but art- 
fully drink capillaire, or rum or 
grog diluted almost to water, or 
milk, though not treat his company 
with such beverage. Shakspeare 
says of scenes that many account 
dangerous to female virtue — 

Whore virtue is these are most virtuous, 
Tho' lewdness rourt it in the shape of heaven. 
But vice, tho' to a radiant angel join'd, 
Won Id sate itself on a celestial bed, 
And prey on garbage. 

Without the guard of innate vir- 



tue, the sequestered bower or the re- 
tired parlour, while the fleecy clouds 
flit across the moon, and the wain- 
scot and the couch are dimly illu- 
minated, and at times darkened — 
without virtue, I say, these unsus- 
pected retreats are often as fatal to 
female virtue, as any that Wap- 
ping or St. Giles's can furnish. — 
() my dear Miss K. that every one 
on whom Providence has showered 
riches, would disguise himself, to 
discover secreted misery; be a con- 
soling, an advising friend to retired 
distress; be seemingly very poor, 
and as if their companion and ser- 
vant, with the power and will to 
raise the sons and daughters of af- 
fliction to happiness. To such un- 
ostentatious friends of the human 
race and of all nature the Almighty 
has adjudged the highest prize of 
felicity. Such as these 1 honour 
and I love; such as these I wotdd 
always receive with warmth as the 
friends of my heart — I would by the 
great 

["The accusing angel, to use the 
words of Sterne, immediately flew 
up to heaven's high chancery with 
the oath, and blushed when lie gave 
it in ; and the recording angel, when 
he set it down, dropped a tear upon 
the word and blotted it out forever]. 

Pardon me, Miss K. the females 
of my people are too apt to give 
into this expression. 

Miss K. Your eyes glisten with 
tears, tears of joy. The great fiat 
has adjudged to you these luxurious 
(ears. I perceive that you have 
been this unknown, unostentatious 
friend lo sequestered misery. The 
Divinity sees the heart and cannot be 
deceived. Compose you i self and 
dry your tears, while I read some- 
thing on anatomy, which may amuse 



6 



ORIGIN OF THE MELODRAMA, &C. 



you. Here is a paper on the subject, 
which has lain many years in my 
aunt's drawers as a wrapper of fans. 
I do not know who wrote it. Part 
of it is torn away; for Susan had 



been for some time curling or rather 
papering her hair with it before I 
discovered it. 

Juninus. 



ON THE ORIGIN OF THE MELODRAMA, WITH BIOGRA- 
PHICAL NOTICES AND ANECDOTES RELATING TO THE 
COMPOSER BENDA, ITS INVENTOR. 



To the Editor, 

Some days ago I had the 
resolution to risk my life in fighting 
my way through a brutal pit-door 
mob, in order to see the perform- 
ance of a horse-drama. I am cor- 
rect in the expression " to see;" 
for, had I been deaf, I really be- 
lieve my gratification would have 
been infinitely greater, so wretched 
were both dialogue and music. An 
elderly gentleman, my right-hand 
neighbour, seemed to share in the 
disgust I felt ; for now and then I 
heard him utter a commiserating 
clack of the tongue against the roof 
of the mouth, and once or twice 
his indignation burst forth in a 
"pshaw!" "stuff!" "nonsense!" 
and the like unequivocal expres- 
sions of condemnation. Coinci- 
dence of opinion seemed to invite 
mutual communication ; a conver- 
sation ensued, not at all to the ad- 
vantage of the piece, or of (he taste 
of the times, in the course of which 
the old gentleman observed, that 
the introduction of melodramas was 
one of the causes of the decline of 
the British stage. His notion of a 
melodrama, I soon found, was de- 
rived from the miserable exhibi- 
tions announced under that title in 
our play-bills; he had, till I ex- 
plained the real meaning of the 
term, no idea of the proper melo- 
drama, that beautiful and original 



species of theatrical production, 
which owes its being to Benda, one 
of the greatest composers of the 
German school, a man whose works 
are much less known in this coun- 
try than they deserve to be, and 
whose genius and skill in dramatic 
composition were probably equal to 
that of a Gluck or a Mozart. 

As many of your readers, sir, are 
perhaps equally strangers to the 
name of Benda, and to his musical 
works, I presume a few particulars 
relating to his life and character may 
not be found destitute of interest, 
especially as his character, like that 
of all great men, exhibits some very 
striking peculiarities. 

George Benda, born in 1722, was 
the third son of a weaver in Bohe- 
mia, who, like almost every per- 
son of that musical people, played 
a little on the oboe, and on one or 
two other instruments. The whole 
family possessed such extraordina- 
ry musical talents, that the great 
Frederic, who, during one of his 
campaigns in Bohemia, happened 
to pass through their village and 
to witness their untutored perform- 
ance, took them with him to Ber? 
tin, and assigned them competent 
means of subsistence and proper in- 
struction in practical music. In that 
excellent school our Benda made 
such rapid progress, that, although 
very young, lie was engaged for the 



ORIGIN OF THE MELODRAMA, SCC. 



king's chapel as a second violin; 
lie was also a good pinno-forte- 
playcr, and a st ill belter performer 
on the oboe. Hut Hernia's talents 
for composition soon eclipsed his 
fame as an instrumental performer, 
and, what is extraordinary, thede- 
vclopemerit of these talents was ex- 
clusively his own work. Without 
having ever received any instruc- 
tion in the theory of music and 
composition, his own ear and natu- 
ral genius alone initiated him in 
that difficult science, whose laws 
he followed without being sensible 
of their existence. This extraor- 
dinary fact is attested by one of his 
friends, who once brought him a 
printed critique on one of his works. 
Henda, after having read it witii 
attention, remarked, with his wont- 
ed sincerity, that the reviewer had 
paid him great compliments on his 
observance of a number of sublime 
rules in composition, of which he 
knew so little, that up to that mo- 
ment he had been unacquainted 
even with their technical appella- 
tions. 

.Benda's increasing fame procured 
him a vocation to Saxe - Gotha, 
where he received the appointment 
of master of the duke's chapel. 
There he wrote a number of sacred 
compositions, masses, cantatas, ora- 
torios, &c. which are still in high 
estimation with the Germans. His 
.symphonies at that time were as 
great favourites as those of Haydn 
and Mozart are at the present day. 
In a. subsequent journey to Italy, 
which he made entirely at the cx- 
perice of his sovereign the Duke of 
Saxe-Gotha, he greatly enlarged 
1) is musical knowledge and taste; 
and it was there that he first con- 
tracted (hat bent for dramatic com- 



position, which, on his return to his 
native Country, he cultivated with 
themost eminentsuccess. Although 
at first greatly prejudiced against 
the simple and, as he then thought, 
trifling style of the Italian school, 
his correct taste soon convinced 
him, not only that (Ik; artless me- 
lodiousness of the Italian dramatic 
music seldom failed to speak to (he 
hearts of a mixed and unlearned 
audience, but also that its effect 
even upon persons of a refined mu- 
sical ear, is more certain and strong- 
er than any abstract combination of 
scientific harmonies. 

Thus animated by an enthusiasm 
for dramatic composition, Bendrt 
returned to Gotha, his breast filled 
wilh the embers of that genial fire, 
that Promethean flame, which alike 
warmed the bosom of an Orpheus, 
a Phidias, an Apelles, a Raphael, 
a Homer, a Dante, or a Shakspeare, 
and without which no votary of any 
of the Pierian sisters can rise to 
greatness. Yet this divine spark 
remained long latent, and would 
perhaps have died away, had not 
mere accident been the means of 
fanning it into a heavenly blaze. 

Owing to the destruction by fire 
of the Weimar theatre, the compa- 
ny of performers came from thence 
to Gotha, where they met with great 
success, particularly by the pro- 
duction of Wielaiid's Alccslc, com- 
posed by Schwcizcr. This opera 
roused the dormant genius of Ben- 
da ; he felt an inward conviction of 
powers superior to that eomposi- 
|| tion, anil an irresistible impulse to 
display them. The principal ac- 
tress of that company was a Mad. 
Brandes : her declamation and ac- 
1 lion had won the heart and admire- 
ij tion ofBeuda: for her alone he 



ORIGIN OF THE MELODItAMA, &C. 



longed to employ his musical talents. 
A most essential obstacle, it is true, 
seemed to oppose the wish of our 
composer: Mad. Brandes was a 
iirst-rate actress, but sonorously as 
her voice re-echoed through every 
corner of the theatre, she was no 
singer, in fact she could not sing 
at all. This untoward circumstance 
originated in Benda the thought, 
whether it were not possible to em- 
ploy his favourite heroine in a man- 
ner so as to combine her prose with 
the charms and powers of harmony. 
He communicated his original idea 
to some literary and musical friends, 
who unanimously encouraged him 
to the attempt, convinced as they 
felt that the genius of Benda would 
produce excellence in the untrod- 
den path. The mythic tradition of 
the adventures of Ariadne with The- 
seus was chosen for the subject, and 
purposely dramatised for the occa- 
sion. " Ariadne in Naxos" was 
the first melodrama ! 

The life of Benda docs not in- 
form us whether this melodrama 
could boast of any real or basket 
horses, elephants, dogs, or other 
cattle; and, what is extraordinary, 
the fine opportunity offered by the 
mythological fiction of the Cretan 
princess to introduce a Minotaur, 
seems to have been miserably neg- 
lected. In fact, some of my read- 
ers will think that this parent me- 
lodrama must have been a whimsi- 
cal sort of a thing, when I tell 
them that it was an opera without 
songs. But to leave their curiosity 
no longer in suspense, 1 will briefly 
state, that all Benda did was to in- 
tersperse the speeches, and fre- 
quently the sentences of the text, 
with short musical phrases, expres- 
sive, as far as musical painting was 



able, of the import of the words 
just spoken. 

It is not improbable, that the 
reader will entertain the same opi- 
nion respecting a production of this 
kind, as was preconceived of it by 
the generality of cotemporary Ger- 
man critics. As soon as its exist- 
ence was known, the hue and cry 
resounded in almost every perio- 
dical publication of that country 
against the new melodrama, as a 
monstrous offspring of vitiated taste. 
But this condemnation without a 
trial lasted only till the score of the 
composition reached the principal 
cities of Germany. Wherever Ari- 
adne in Naxos was represented, the 
effect it produced on the audience 
was like magic. The sublime and 
original overture, the happy ex- 
pression of every passion or even 
emotion of the mind, the melting 
languor of tenderness, the devotion 
of love, the vacillation of doubt, 
anxiety, fear, despair, all seemed 
as it were faithfully translated into 
the language of musical sounds ; 
the soul was involuntarily carried 
away by the novel and irresistible 
effect of Benda's sublime harmony. 
The unprecedented success of Ari- 
adne encouraged the author to fur- 
ther efforts of (he same kind.' His 
next melodrama was '.' Medea," a 
composition equally grand and im- 
pressive. Our Shakspeare's beauti- 
ful tragedy of Romeo and Juliet, 
and several other subjects, were me- 
lodramatised by Benda in succession. 
As the principal object 1 had in 
view in transmitting this sketch to 
you, sir, was a wish to rescue the 
melodrama from undeserved oppro- 
brium, by showing what it origi- 
nally was and how it first arose; and 
as a detailed biography of Benda 



ORIGIN OF THE MEL01)RAMA, &C. 



9 



would afford little amusement to 
your numerous readers, I shall not 
pursue the thread of his life through 

its various and checkered incidents. 
The death of a beloved wife greatly 
altered his social disposition and 
habits. lie became pensive and 
solitary, and retired to a secluded 
village in Saxony, where he con- 
trived to bass the remainder of his 
days on a frugal pension, without 
associating or conversing, except 
rarely, with any human being. 
There he was daily seen hastily 
wandering across fields and woods, 
always preferring the most unfre- 
quented paths. Twice a week, re- 
gularly, he journeyed to a market 
town, in order to read the news- 
papers. These and metaphysical 
speculations v, ere, during many 
years, his sole amusements. The 
ibrrner interested him the more, as 
lie was a great advocate of the 
French revolution; and his philo- 
sophical meditations on the Deity, 
the world, and the nature and fu- 
ture destiny of man, as displayed 
in a series of printed letters to some 
of his intimate friends, although 
not of an orthodox or novel cast, 
shew sufficiently the depth of his 
understanding and the benevolence 
of his heart. In 1791 he wrote his 
last musical composition, a cantata 
entitled " Hernia's Sorrows;" and 
in 1795 ho died, at the advanced 
age of 73. 

Not (o interrupt the thread of 
this cursory narrative, I refrained 
from adverting to a peculiar feature 
in Benda's character — his unparal- 
leled absence of mind, a failing na- 
turally attendant on many a <;rea( 
genius, whose entire absorption in 
profound intellectual labour fre- 
quently tends to abstract them from 

No, XLIII. Vol. VI JJ. 



the habits and functions of social 
life. As it may afford some inter- 
est to see how far these temporary 
aberrations of the mind can extend, 
I shall subjoin a few anecdotes illus- 
trative of our composer's foible in 
that respect. Their authenticity, 
1 think, may be depended upon, 
since 1 have not only found them on 
record in Benda's life in Sehlichte- 
groll's German Necrolos.1/, but con- 
firmed in the Leipzig Musical Ga* 
zelte, with slight alterations. 

The Duchess of Saxe-Gotha hav- 
ing received a new piano-forte from 
England, Bend a was sent for to try 
its tone in her presence *, after a few 
passages, he involved himself in 
such a maze of modulations and 
voluntaries, that her grace lost all 
patience, left him to his harmonic 
speculations, and withdrew fo her 
adjoining cabinet. When the pay- 
ing had ceased she returned to the 
music-room, but found Bendagone. 
I lis hut and stick, however, which 
remained on the table, convinced the 
duchess that he could not be far ofF. 
Fn fact, on looking into the adjoin- 
ing apartment, sl»e beheld the author 
of Ariadne wilh his car against (he 
wall, " to hear," as he informed 
her, " how the instrument sounded 
at a distance." Although nobody 
was then playing upon it, the writer 
of this has no doubt but the mind's 
car of Benda heard a continuation 
of the former sounds. 



ThelaUcr supposition is strength- 
ened by the following (art. in the 

middle of the room, which served 
as our author's study, stood a very 
small and old - fashioned harpsi- 
chord, with a great arm-chair be- 
fore it. To (he former he would 
frequently resort to try the effect o( 
C 



10 



ORIGIN OF THE MELODRAMA, 



:c. 



tliis or tli at harmonic combination. , 
One day, absorbed in profound mu- I 
sical meditation, he rises from his] 
desk for the same purpose, but in- 
stead of filing off by the right he 
goes round by the left, sits down 
upon the key-board of the harpsi- 
chord, fingers the doubtful passage 
on the back of the arm-chair, and 
satisfied with its correctness and 
effect returns to the bureau to con- 
tinue his score. His wife, who all 
the while had been sitting at work 
near the window, was no longer able 
to refrain from laughing ; but all 
she could say proved incapable of 
convincing the absent husband of! 
his mistake, till she supported her 
assertion by the devastated state of 
the keyboard. 



The peculiar metre of a song in 
an opera which he was composing 
caused him great trouble and many 
unsatisfactory attempts. One even- 
ing, however, an idea how to over- 
come the difficulty rushed upon 
him, as by inspiration, during a 
walk. lie instantly returned home, 
took the pen, and by three o'clock 
in the morning, to his unspeakable 
delight, accomplished what he had 
in vain sought for during many 
days. But what is joy without the 
means of imparting our inward de- 
light to other.->? Accordingly, no 
sooner had Benda satisfied himself 
of the excellence of his labour by a 
hasty trial on the little harpsichord, 
than, strong and tall as he was, he 
takes the instrument under his arm, 
sallies forth to his bosom friend, the 
poet Gotter, knocks him out of bed, 
and plays with the enthusiasm of an 
artist his song to the yawning poet, 
who all the time attended in his 
shirt and nightcap to this ecstatic 
performance of the eccentric author. 



On a trip to Gotha, in company 
with his wife, to visit an old friend, 
he had to change horses at Erfurth, 
during which interval each agreed 
to give a call to some acquaintances 
in that town. Unfortunately, the 
husband's visits were sooner got 
through than his wife's. Return- 
ing, therefore, to the post-house, 
and finding the chaise ready to 
start, he jumped in, drove off, and 
actually arrived at Gotha without 
his better half, who had staid be- 
hind in hopes her good spouse 
would in the course of his solitary 
journey become aware of his mistake, 
and come back for her. Not so '. 
It was only on his arrival at Gotha, 
when asked by his friend how Mrs. 
Benda was, that he recollected 
having left her in the lurch, and 
instantly took another post-chaise 
to make amends for his blunder. 



While single he had for a length 
of time inhabited a set of apart- 
ments, which he left at Inst on ac- 
count of want of room. One even- 
ing, in going home, he is so much 
absorbed in meditation, that he 
forgets his change of quarters, pro- 
ceeds to his former lodging, finds it 
open by chance, undresses, goes to 
bed, and is on the point of falling 
asleep, when his successor, the new 
tenant, enters. Not a little pro- 
voked at being thus disturbed in 
his rest, Benda makes use of offen- 
sive language, high words arc ex- 
changed on both sides, the landlord 
intervenes, recognizes his former 
inmate, succeeds in convincing him 
of his mistake, and Benda is obliged 
to quit his warm bed, dress himself 
again, and seek his own quarters. 



Invited to dine at a friend's, he 
arrives considerably before the ap- 



OLD GREGORY. 



11 



pointed time, to the great annoyance 
of the master of the house, who had 
not completed the necessary prepa- 
rations of selecting wine, decanting, 
&c. As soon, therefore, as a se- 
cond Sliest had joined, tin? master 
apologizes, and retires. W it It the 
gentleman just arrived Bendaenters 
into conversation on his favourite 
subject, politics; and in walking 
up and down the dining-room, 
Uenda helps himself to one French 
roll after another (of which one had 
been laid for every cover), and eats 
them with great avidity. When 
the company had seated themselves, 
the master calls, " Jiread." The 
astonished servant protests he had 
laid as many rolls on the table as 
there were guests. This roused the 
attention of lienda, who, with a 
faint recollection of Avhat had hap- 
pened, observed, " J dare sa}' the 
fault is mine, for I am not sure, 
whether, previously to sitting down, 
J might not have inadvertently taken 
a bite or two of your man's rolls." 



Toconclude, I shall only mention 
one more instance of our great com- 
poser's temporary privation of re- 
miniscence. It has already been 
stated, that he was greatly attached 
to his wife, and (hat she died before 
him. The first day or two her loss 
rendered him almost inconsolable, 
and would have affected him still 
more had not the absolute necessity 
of finishing a composition in hand 
in a few days forcibly diverted his 
gloomy reflections in some measure. 
On the morning of his wife's burial, 
while deeply engaged with his mu- 
sical labour, the servant-maid came 
to ask him for money to buy wine 
and cakes (for the attendants on the 
funeral). — u You know," replied 
Benda angrily, " that I do not 
meddle with things of that kind; 
go to my wife, and let her give, you 
what money you want!*' 

1 am, Sir, Sec. 

EuMEllSTES. 

London", April is, 1818. 



OLD GllEGORY. 
From the unpublished MS. of TRICK and TRIFLE; or, The Man of Sentiment: 
A TALE, By GEORGE FITZ-GEOIIGE. 



Old Gregory was the most 
uncommon piece of antiquity that 
I ever remember to have met with. 
He had lived threescore and three 
years in the family of the Wester- 
villes, and now officiated in the 
double capacity of butler and house- 
steward. 

Possessing a mind naturally ele- 
vated above the dependencies of 
servitude, fortune had compelled 
him to submit to the duties of his 
situation, lie used to say, they 
had played a long game at cross- 



purposes, but he still hoped to come 
off victorious. There was a some- 
thing about him peculiarly prepos- 
sessing. A warmth of heart and 
"energy of feeling would oftentimes 
break through a native roughness, 
that seemed more to nsfc, than abso- 
lutely to need, f lie occasional ope- 
rations of the file. 

Every man's fancy is wedded to 
some particular idea. Whatever 
this may be, he always feels a plea- 
sure in bestriding his favourite; 
hobby — and many a lecture ha* 
C 



12 



OLD GHEGORY. 



poor Old Gregory delivered from 
Tristram's dissertation on the sub- 
ject, illustrating, with singular pro- 
priety, the truth of that observation 
of Shakspeare, that he would rather , 
teach twenty what were good to be 
done, than be one of those twenty 
to better by his own instructions. 
Gregory, poor man ! had his fail- 
ing, and it was curious to observe 
how naturally his discourse would 
slide into the very habit he laboured 
to condemn. His hobby was the 
Mathematics, a tit he was ever 
leading i* th' mount. There was 
another science in which he won- 
derfully excelled, to wit, an asto- 
nishing sagacity in discovering the 
dark and hidden truths of a rebus, 
a charade, or an enigma. Indeed, 
the Diaries, and Sterne's whimsical 
Memoirs of Shandy, Mere the only 
volumes which benow condescended 
to look into. 

Though rarely inebriated, yet a 
cheerful glass he always enjoyed ; 
he used to say it added to the sub- 
limity of his genius: however this 
may be, it certainly never failed 
wonderfully to exhilarate his spirits, 
and tended as materially to heighten 
the complexion of his sensibility. 

But let me just sketch the old 
fellow. Methinks I see him with 
his scarlet plush vest, and blue vel- 
vet frock, for he had not altered 
the cut of his coat for five and forty 
years, with a foaming tankard be- 
fore him, rising from his seat in a 
stiff erect form, nearly as perpendi- 
cular as the line of a mason's plum- 
met (for he always preserved his 
height, even to a hair's breadth), 
arguing with the schoolmaster ol 
the parish on the beauty of a new 
problem, or the merit of a prize 
enigma, and maintaining the truth 



of his position with as much of ac- 
tion and of eloquence as would be- 
come the best rhetorician in the 
universe. Nature had been more 
liberal to Gregory than to the gene- 
ral race of mathematicians, in be- 
stowing upon him a heart of larger 
size ; and his opponent knew, that, 
simply by force of argument, he 
never could gain a victory. .When, 
therefore, lie found himself a little 
pressed, he would always take that 
advantage which the physical supe- 
riority of his constitution never fail- 
ed to afford ; and when Sir John 
Barleycorn had pretty well mellow- 
ed the head or softened the heart 
of Old Gregory, (lie pedagogue's 
last resource — for the credit of his 
character usually depended upon 
the issue of these petty contests — 
was to glance at something respect- 
ing the nature of Gregory's first 
attachment, or an allusion to Sterne's 
pathetic story of Le Fevre. This 
always touched {\\e old fellow's feel- 
ings, and he would sob, and sigh, 
and whine, as he commented on the 
beautiful idea of the recording 
angerscancellingtheoath, as though 
his breast had been as full as the 
Corporal's, or his sensibility as 
active as that of my Uncle Toby. 

Charles Westerville, who well 
knew the bent of Gregory's genius, 
would frequently affect a more than 
ordinary interest in the success of 
his speculations ; and it is very 
probable that the old man's partial- 
ity originated in t It is circumstance, 
for it is always by a sort of fellow 
feeling that we become endeared to 
each other. 

Gregory had been poring over the 
mystic pages of a new Miscellany, 
and haviiigsuccceded in discovering 
the prize, had run with a meaning 



OLD GREGORY. 



13 



aspect of intelligence to communi- 
cate the secret to Westerville. 

Charles himself was just then a little 
in the clouds, for he was puzzling 
over the various beauties of a more 
pleasing enigma, viz. a portrait 6f 
Louisa Manfield. " It is, sir," in- 
terposed Gregory, "a portrait! — 
" Yes, Gregory, it is, indeed, a 
portrait!" Gregory looked at the 
painting, and the features struck 
him ; and, as the impression of a 
stronger idea necessarily supersedes 
that of a weaker, Gregory at once 
forgot both the enigma and its solu- 
tion. The remembrance had carried 
him five and forty years back, and 
he continued to gaze on the minia- 
ture with the feelings of a man forty 
and five years younger. Louisa 
Manfield was (he very image of her 
mother, and Gregory recollected 
the well-known original. The tear 
stood in his eye ; the word faultered 
on his tongue ; he looked at Wes- 
terville, and Westerville in turn 
looked at Gregory. " Poor, poor 
thing," said Gregory, " she fell a 
martyr to affection ! The sun ne'er 
beamed on a kinder heart, but it 
was not made for this world: she 
it was who so long preserved the 
widowed life of her that was first 
dear to me, but fortune smiled not 
on our courtship, and Phoebe was 
doomed to be the wife of another." 
— Gregory hastily brushed away the 
tear, and proceeded : — " They took 
a little farm in the neighbourhood, 
but it was ill managed, (heir cattle 
died, and the landlord's distraint 
soon reduced them to poverty and 
ruin. Bad habits but too frequently 
accompany misfortune. In a fit of 
drunken desperation the husband of 
Phoebe was induced to enter the 
army, thus trusting to the pr< carious | 



contingency of a soldier forthc sup- 
port of himself and his family. His 
regiment was soon ordered abroad, 
and he fell nobly in defending the 
honour of his country. His wife 
and three helpless children were 
thus left to the rude protection of 
the world, and ,but for the timely 
interference of that angel to whom 
the painter lias done so much jus- 
tice, the whole family of the Haw- 
thorncs" — and he dropped his hand 
leisurely upon his thigh — " would 
have early found a grave. Phoebe, 
however, had felt a pang which the 
gentle hand of philanthropy could 
not alleviate, and the lily drooped, 
withered, and died. Her remains 
were interred in the corner of the 
village church-yard, and no memo- 
rial marks the spot." 

" But a stone shall render more 
sacred the relics," interrupted Wes- 
terville. 

" I happened to pass through the 
village a few months after," conti- 
nued Gregory, ' ; and stopping to 
make encpiiry, I learned the melan- 
choly catastrophe. A rosy little 
fellow, all that was now left, di- 
rected me to the grave of his mam- 
my. I held him by the left hand, 
and looking me full in the face, he 
pointed with his right to the place 
of interment. I had a few roots of 
the sweet-scented violet in my pock- 
et, some of which I carefully co- 
vered with a little fresh mould that 
lay on the south side of the grave, 
and giving my guide a trifle, he 
engaged at least once a day to wa- 
ter the plants. It should be, he 
said, his little garden, and not a 
weed should rankle there. His 
mammy was fond of flowers, and 
Joey too, and Jane liked flowers, 
but they are gone t) mammy.- 



14 



VIEW OF MAIDSTONE. 



< Still," said he, < Old Margery is 
very kind to me, but I shall never 
more see my mammy" — and he burst 
into tears." 

" Darling fellow!" exclaimed 
Westerville. 

The heart of Old Gregory swell- 



ed, and he turned to hide his 
feelings. 

" But now," and the rising sob 
nearly choaked his utterance, "there 
is no child to water the flowers, and. 
every root has perished." 



Plate 1.— VIEW OF MAIDSTONE. 



It is not possible, within the 
limited scale of this work, to enter 
into such minute details of the sub- 
jets of our embellishments as they 
may sometimes appear to require ; 
but we have endeavoured to render 
them generally interesting by the 
selection of those particulars that 
seem most worthy of notice. Such 
is the mode of proceeding which we 
are obliged to adopt, also, on the 
present occasion. 

Maidstone, the county town of 
Kent, of which a picturesque view 
of part of the bridge and High- 
street is annexed, is for the most 
part situated on the east bank of the 
Medway, and presents a beautiful 
appearance, the houses rising gra- 
dually from the river-side to the 
top of the ascent towards the north, 
which may be termed the upper 
part of the town, and which is con- 
siderably above the valley. The 
situation of the town being favour- 
able for navigation and trade, and 
nearly in the center of the county, 
contributes very much to the pros- 
perity of its inhabitants ; but this is 
more particularly derived from the 
cultivation of hops, the staple com- 
modity of the county at large. 

The vicinity of Maidstone abounds 
with views of hop-grounds, which 
have a very singular appearance, 
and are frequently alluded to by 
writers of fancy and lovers of the 



picturesque. Phillips, in his poem 
on Cyder , has these lines: 

Lo ! on auxiliary poles, the hops 
Ascending spiral, ranged in meet array! 
Transporting prospect! These, as modern use 
Ordains, inspii'd, an auburn drink compose, 
Wholesome, of deathless fame. 

The late Mr. Ireland, in his Views 
on the Medway, has favoured us 
with one on hop-gathering, which 
gives a good idea of the happy 
scene that presents itself at the hour 
of noon on this occasion — repre- 
senting the cheerful countenance of 
the hop-gatherer just quitting his 
labour, the young ones dancing 
round the loaded poles, and the 
more aged spreading their humble 
repast, while each in his turn 

Crowns high the goblet, and with cheerful 

draught 
Enjoys the present hour, adjourns the future 

thought. 

The town of Maidstone consists 
of four principal streets intersect- 
ing each other, with smaller ones 
branching off at right angles. In 
that called the High-street, which 
is the most spacious and handsome, 
stands the Shire-hall, where the 
assizes are held, and other public 
business is transacted. On the west 
side of it is also a small, but neat 
theatre > 

Considerable remains of a palace, 
supposed to have been built about 
131S for the archbishops of Canter- 



VIEW OF MAIDSTONE. 



15 



bury, on (lie site of an old mansion 
■which had been given to those pre- 
lates so early as the reign of King 
John, are still standing, and form a 
good residence. It is situated near 
the river, on the same eminence with 
the church and college. 

The Church is a large and hand- 
some structure. The chancel, and 
some suppose the whole fabric, 
•was rebuilt, in 1395 by Archbishop 
Courtcney, who was himself buried 
in it, as his skeleton was discovered 
in 1794, about the center of the 
chancel, in a grave five or six feet 
deep, and on whose tomb was a 
long Latin inscription, which is 
preserved in Weever's Funeral 
Monuments. This discovery was 
of some importance, as a doubt long- 
existed, and indeed much discus- 
sion had taken place among anti- 
quarians on the subject. The se- 
pulchral inscriptions are numerous; 
the oldest of them may also be 
found in Weever. 

The College was also erected by 
Courtcney anno 1^93, and was a 
large building, the greater part of 
which is yet standing, and has been 
for a considerable time occupied as 
a private dwelling. It was ori- 
ginally founded to afford an asylum 
for a master, a keeper, and other 
inmates or fellows. The most learn- 
ed of the masters was the celebrated 
William G rocyn, born at Bristol, 
1112. He understood the learned 
languages well, and was professor 
of Greek at Oxford, where he is 
said to have taught Erasmus. Gro- 
cyn died in 1522, and lies buried 
in Maidstone. The college was 
suppressed in the reign of Edward 
VI. -when its annual revenue was 
estimated at ^?159 7 10. 

There arc in this town two or 



three other old buildings, which 
were formerly religious institutions. 

At the end of Earl-street, near the 
river, is the Free Grammar-school, 
a foundation in considerable repute, 
and at which many eminent literary 
characters have received their early 
education. The school-room and 
other buildings, forming three sides 
of a quadrangle, were originally 
the chapel and habitation of the 
fraternity of Corpus Christi, found- 
ed by some inhabitants of Maid* 
stone, and professing the rule of St. 
Benedict. When this fraternity 
was suppressed in the first year of 
Edward VI. its annual revenues 
were estimated at ^40, and the 
buildings were purchased by the 
corporation, who established the 
free grammar-school, for the go- 
vernment of which several excellent 
statutes were made under the charter 
granted to the town by Queen Eli- 
zabeth. The buildings were re- 
paired and improved a few years 
since by the late Rev. Thomas 
Cherry, who was then master. 

Here are also two charity schools 
and two ranges of almshouses, each 
for six persons of both sexes. The 
poor-house, a brick building, near 
the church, was built about 1720, 
by Thomas Bliss, Esq. a native of 
Maidstone, and one of its repre- 
sentatives in several parliaments. 

The bridge of seven arches over 
the Med way is long and narrow, 
hut picturesque in appearance. It 
is very ancient, and is supposed to 
have owed its foundation, or at 
least its most considerable repairs 
and improvements, to (he munifi- 
cence of the arcb b£ shops of I 
terbury. The sudden thaw and 
consequent overflowing of I ' 
way in January 1795, th 



16 



VIEW OF MAIDSTONE. 



melting of the preceding snow, had 
destroyed several bridges higher up 
the river, and threatened destruc- 
tion to that of Maidstone. At 
length, the current rising higher 
than the walls of the latter, the ice, 
which floated on its surface, passed 
on. Fortunately the frost of the 
ensuing nifflit arrested the water on 
ils way, and a gradual thaw re- 
moved it without farther mischief. 
The inhabitants of the houses near 
the river were compelled to use 
boats in the street, and resort to 
their upper rooms, the lower being 
several feet deep in water. The 
fields exhibited a very extraordinary 
appearance, from the vast sheets of 
ice which lay upon them, and had 
bent and kept down trees of consi- 
derable thickness. It could be 
compared to nothing but the break- 
ing up of the great frosts in North 
America. 

The gaol, a spacious stone build- 
ing in East-lane, was erected since 
1741, in the place of a more ancient 
prison, which stood in the very 
center of the town. It has since 
been much enlarged and strength- 
ened, and excellent regulations have 
been made for its government. 

At the upper end of the High- 
street is the Conduit, which forms 
the principal reservoir for the sup' 
ply of the inhabitants with water, 
and was built in 162i. Another 
conduit stood in the middle of the 
High-street, and was pulled down 
about 1793; it formed an octagonal 
tower of stone, embattled and crown- 
ed with a cupola and dial. A new 
octagonal stuccoed building in the 
lower part of the town was intended 
for a third reservoir, but failing in 
its intention, was used as a butter- 
market. The water is of excellent 



quality, and is conveyed, by pipes 
laid under the Medwaj^, from an in- 
closed spring called Rocky Mill, in 
the West Borough. The coin- 
market is supported on pillars, and 
surmounted by a gilt wheatsheaf. 

During the last two centuries the 
population of this town has been 
progressively increasing, and in 
1801 amounted to upwards of 8000 
persons. It has been recently aug- 
mented by the erection of extensive 
barracks for infantry and cavalry 
at a short distance from the place, 
on the road to Rochester. The 
buildings are of wood, and form a 
hollow square, with a riding-school 
towards the river. 

In concluding this article we can- 
not omit noticing, that in this town, 
in August 1735, was born William 
Woollett, the admirable engraver, 
of whom no sufficient memoir has 
yet been published, notwithstanding 
his inimitable pre-eminence in line- 
engraving. Of his several per- 
formances, his Niobe, Death of 
Wolfe, and The Fishery, are con- 
sidered his best productions, the 
value of which can only be appre- 
ciated by their very enhanced price. 
He was most indefatigable in h is pro- 
fession, and displayed on all occa- 
sions a vigour of taste, a depth of 
judgment, and a power of handling, 
superior to any cotemporary en- 
graver of the English school. Sorry 
we are to lament the premature 
death of so great a man in his 
profession. Having met with an 
injury in crossing a stile, and his 
delicacy preventing him from ob- 
taining timely assistance, he died 
in great agony on the 23d of 
May, 1795, in his fiftieth year, and 
was buried in St. Pancras church. 
A suitable monument, by the classic 



THE MODERN SPECTATOR, 



17 



chisel of Banks, has been erected y trait has been well engraved by 
to his memory in the cloisters of' Shcrwin, another distinguished art- 
Westminster Abbey ; and his por- I ist in historic engraving. 



THE MODERN SPECTATOR. 

No. XVI. 
The godlike faculty of tloing good. Pope. 

Mr. Spectator, i] moral taste, determines my choice 

I am a constant reader of society ; and the chastened in- 
of your papers, and I cannot give I fluencc of religion forms, as I hope 
you a more sincere proof of my np- I and believe, the principle of my 
probation of (hem, than the trouble 
J am now about to give you, in ad- 



dressing myself to your experience, 
and requesting your good counsel 
in a matter of no small consequence 



conduct in fulfilling the leadin* 
duties of life. 

All this, you will probably say, 
Mr. Spectator, is as it ought to be ; 
and as far as good intentions go, £ 



to me, in the future regulation and ; shall not dissent from such an opi- 
conduct of what I hope is, and will ! nion : but whether it arises from an 
continue, while I live, to be the go- over anxiety to do good, or an ec- 
verning principle of my actions, j centric disposition, or the sudden 



At the same time, from some cause 
or other which I cannot discover, 
and know not how to reconcile to 
the purity of my intentions, 1 am 
continually involved in difficulties 
which distress me, and find my- 
self in predicaments, winch too 
often make me the subject of ridi- 
cule, and of that commiseration 
■which sometimes is more mortify- 
ing than even the severity of cen- 
sure. 

1 am a man of independent for- 
tune, a weakly constitution, and 
what is generally considered in the 
world as a sentimental character. 
I am not fond of the amusements of 
fashionable life, nor what are called 
rural recreations ; splendid parties 
in town, or the dog-kennel in the 
country, are equally remote from 
my habits and inclinations. A love 
of literature and the arts forms my 



impulse of unreflecting humanity, 
I cannot tell ; 1 am continually 
thwarted in my wishes to good ; 
my kind actions are continual! \ per- 
verted, and sometimes my charita- 
ble intentions, instead of producing 
advantage to others, and procuring 
gratification for myself, increase the 
evil in the one, and disappoint tho 
most benevolent hop s in the other. 
In the exercise of charity, which 
I intended should be the principal 
object, as I trusted it would prove 
the certain happiness of my life, I 
thought it would be the best and 
most assured way to success, to form 
a regular system, on which my ca- 
reer of benevolence should be con- 
ducted, so as to secure a certain ad- 
vantage to those who might be tin; 
objects of my bounty. To pu 
institutions, therefore, I became a 
general as well as annual sub scribei ■; 



amusements; a sense of decorum, || but my attention was more particu- 
blended with what I shall call a; larlv directed, to laose whose inline- 
No. XLIII. Vol. V11I. D 



18 



THE MODERN SPECTATOR. 



diafe and pressing wants solicited 
instant relief; and I made it a rule, 
never to take my morning's walk 
without furnishing myself with the 
means of giving eleemosynary aid 
to all who solicited it of me, accord- 
ing to their apparent wants. My 
observation, however, had furnish- 
ed me with an opinion, that the dis- 
tribution of money did not always 
answer the good purpose which i 
intended, and that it led oftencr to 
the gin-shop, than to the butcher 
and the baker. I, therefore, pro- 
ceeded upon a new plan, To such 
as seemed to invite a more enlarged 
assistance, I gave my cards, de- 
siring them to call at my house at 
a certain hour, when, if they made 
out their story to my satisfaction, 
they should have effectual relief; 
while for such as made the humble 
and piteous complaint of having 
neither food to eat, nor the prospect 
of obtaining any, I had contrived a 
diiferent mode of benevolence. 1 
ordered my housekeeper to wrap 
up daily in paper as many sand- 
wiches as my pockets would hold, 
in which also two-pence halfpenny 
was placed ; so that they might each 
of them contain a small nutritious 
meal and a pint of porter ; and these 
I proposed to distribute as opportu- 
nity would offer in my morning per- 
ambulation. 

Neither of these plans succeeded. 
But one of the former class of men- 
dicants received my invitation, and 
she being dismissed on being unable 
to give any proof of her distressing 
history, contrived, in her passage 
out of the house, to possess herself 
of the porter's watch which acci- 
dentally hung at the back of his 
sleeping chair in the hall. 

The other of my charitable 



schemes lasted but one day. Not 
one of the hungry, starving appli- 
cants appeared to be satisfied with 
my pacquets of refeshment; while 
one of them, a ragged, squalid pe- 
titioner, who declared he had not 
tasted food for I know not how many 
hours, when, on examining the 
paper, he found some halfpence in- 
closed in it, coolly pocketed the 
coin, gave the meat to a passing 
chimney-sweeper, and walked nim- 
bly away, without leaving one 
grateful acknowledgment behind 
him. Another, of the same figure 
and pretensions, on opening my 
present to him, with an associated 
oath, threw it in my face; but this 
was not all, the pepper and salt 
with which the meat was seasoned 
got into my eyes, and blinded and 
tortured me for ten minutes, while 
the contortions the pain threw me 
into, drew a mob about me; and 
when I was sufficiently recovered to 
walk away, I found that my pockets 
were emptied, my watch gone, and 
my walking-stick disposed of. But 
this was not all. I incautiously 
told the story, which became a quiz 
among my more lively acquaintance; 
and it now appears that no one ever 
offers me a sandwich but with a 
lurking smile. I could give you 
many more historiettes of this kind, 
but these will be sufficient to ac- 
quaint you with the symptoms of 
my disorder, and enable you to 
prescribe for me. 

But it is not only amongst those 
who look for no other good but the 
alms bestowed on them; the desire 
of doing good has led me into 
scrapes with persons who ought to 
have known the value of kindness 
however demonstrated, and were 
qualified to form a just estimate of 



THE MODERN SPECTATOR. 



19 



benevolent motives, by whatever 
error they might have been suggest- 
ed. A circumstance happened to 
me but last week, which threatened 
the most unpleasant consequences; 
and has almost determined me to 
use as much precaution in doing a 
kind action, as is necessary in 
guarding against the effects of a 
malicious one. 

To proceed, therefore. I was a 
few mornings since strolling by the 
side of the water in a retired part 
of Kensington Gardens, when J 
perceived a very well dressed man 
issue from the wood, and walk with 
a measured step and a forlorn air 
towards the bank ; he then retired 
in an agitated manner beneath the 
trees, striking his forehead, and 
with all the apparent agitations of 
despair. After resting some time 
against the trunk of an elm, he lifted 
up his hands towards the sky, and 
appeared to address it with uncom- 
mon fervour and earnestness. But 
though I could hear the sounds he 
uttered, which at times he loudly 
vociferated, I could not distinguish 



I was determined, to plunge after 
him, and prevent his fulfilling his 
fatal purpose. 

After some time, however, he 
walked quietly along towards the 
gate of the gardens, muttering, and 
occasionally throwing his hands 
about, as he proceeded. At all 
events, I thought it right to watch 
his actions, and, at a ecrtain dis- 
tance, continued to follow him. On 
entering the Park he turned to the 
Serpentine Iiiver, and walked slow- 
ly along its banks, sometimes stop- 
ping, as it appeared, to examine 
the water, and at other times ejacu- 
lating something that, seemed deep- 
ly to affect him. Thus I continued 
to watch him, nor saw any other 
peculiarity in him till he came to 
the bridge, when he seated himself 
on the parapet, and, taking a paper 
out of his pocket, he read it with 
evident emotion. He next collect- 
ed some stones from (he road, which 
he threw, one by one, into I he 
water, and then proceeded with a 
quick step to the Park-gate. He 
ran across Piccadilly, and went on 



any other words but the exclamation talking to himself, but with a slow 



and measured step, frequently taking 
a paper from his pocket to peruse 



of " O heavens !" and " The veriest 
wretch in nature!" Again he moved 
on in silence, and, as itappeared, in II it; and once he stretched his hand, 
deep sorrow, towards the water, and with the paper in it, towards the 
again hurried back to the wood, . sky, as if he were accusing Heaven 
continually looking back as if he it of injustice. At length he reached 
were pursued by some shape that !| the reservoir at the (op of (he Green 
tilled him with terror. Thus he Park, and as he stood beside i(, I 
continued for a considerable time, j (ook the opportunity (o pass him 
displaying all the various appear- !| and examine his countenance ; but 



anccs of a mind under extreme agi- 
tation ; so that I had no doubt of 
his mind being troubled, and that 
he meditated self-destruction, in 
short, I expected every moment to 
see him throw himself into the 



as 1 did not succeed to my satis- 
faction, I turned back again to lake 
another view of him, when he ixa\c 
me an opportunity of gratifying my 
curiosity, but in a very different 
way from what I either wished or 



water; and I was fully prepared, as expected; for he approached me 

D « 



y> 



THE MODERN SPECTATOR 



with no small portion of resentment 
in his countenance. lie said, that 
it appeared as if I had been watch- 
ing and following him, for what 
purpose he could not conceive. If 



usually appeared, to perfect himself 
in a new character which he was to 
represent in a new play. 

Thus it was that I was deceived 
into the belief that this theatrical 



] had any business with him, he i gentleman was either not in his 
was there to answer me; but, if I | right senses, or that, from some in- 
had not, he begged I would take j tolerable pressure of distress, he 
my way, and let him take his, or j meditated an act of suicide, 
.expect the consequences. It was How am I then, Mr. Spectator, 
not, he added, the action of a gen- j to regulate the conduct of my bene- 
lleman: and if I continued to follow ,j volence in a way to do real good, 



him, he would certainly treat me as 
.a person who had no claim to that 
character. My reply, with all 
my benevolence, was not in the 
language of conciliation ; and I 
really believe from words we should 
have gone to blows, for his expres- 
sions were such as to justify them, 
and my cane would certainly have 
been laid across his shoulders, if a 
couple of gentlemen had not inter- 
fered. To them I explained the 
nature of my conduct; and that it 
arose from my anxious desire to 
prevent a fellow-creature from pur- 
suing the act of self-destruction, 
and with a full determination to 
exert myself, in any way in my 



without subjecting myself to injury 
or ridicule ? and what means would 
you recommend me to employ to 
discover and ascertain meritorious 
objects for my charitable disposition 
to act upon, without ostentation on 
my part, or a failure of my bene- 
volent purposes on theirs ? In com- 
plying with this request, you will 
inexpressibly oblige your constant 
reader and sincere admirer, 

Hujianus. 
I shall answer this interrogatory 
in a very few words. 

That charity is the best of which 
the consequences are the most ex- 
tensive ; but to do the best can 
seldom be the lot of man : it is suf- 



power, to make life worth his keep- jj ficient, if, when opportunities are 
ing. lie explained on his part, jj presented, he is ready to do good, 
•and the whole business terminated j How little could be practised, if 
in frequent peals of laughter, which i ! beneficence were to wait always for 
I Felt to be rather at my expence. I the most proper objects, and the 
In short, it turned out that (his |l noblest occasions — occasions that 
person, who called forth so large a may never happen, and objects that 



portion of ray anxious humanity, 
was an actor of some merit at one 
of the theatres ; and that it was his 
frequent practice, when he had a 
•new part assigned him, to seek 
some retired spot suited to the 
scenery of the play, and there re- 
hearse it . Kensington Gardens had 
Suited his purpose on the present 
occasion, and lie had gone there at 
&u early hour, before the company 



may never be found ! But I should 
recommend with particular earnest- 
ness to Humanus, who appears to 
have wealth at his command, and 
ample leisure to dispose of it, to 
make those persons the peculiar 
objects of his research who have 
such an emphatic sanction of the 
Gospel in their favour — " They 
icho /ire unable lo dig, and to beg 
are ashamed." 



21 



EXTRACTS FROM TTIE CORRESPONDENCE OF AN EMI- 
NENT PHYSICIAN. 

To Dr. 



Sir, 

I am grievously afflicted 
with that kind of disease which 
manifests itself in a vehement love 
of contradiction. Though I would 
die before I would admit this, were 
you to tell me so, yet I frankly ac- 
knowledge my infirmity, to give you 
an opportunity of prescribing for 
my case, if it be within the reach of 
your art. Indeed, I never could 
bear to allow that any body was 
right ; and I should like much to 
see the man who could convince 
me that twice two is four. In my 
youth I accustomed myself to this 
practice of contradiction, to shew 
my proficiency in every branch of 
human knowledge; but it has since 
grown by degrees into an invincible 
habit, which may justly be looked 
upon as a real disease of the mind. 
The mere sight of a man who looks 
as though he were convinced of any 
one thing in the world, puts me in 
a passion, and it is not without 
doing myself the greatest violence [I pointing at the same time to his 



cause or other of offence. Among 
the numbers that I there saw, I 
observed scarcely a face but what 
was as placid and composed, as if 
their souls were engaged only with 
positive truths, and yet it is abso- 
lutely impossible that they should 
not be wrong in sonic point or oilier. 
I was once walking along the Mall, 
behind two persons, one of whom 
had a great deal to say, while the 
other invariably replied, " Yes, 
yes, you are very right." I was 
ready to burst with indignation at 
this silly answer. I coughed aloud 
whenever he signified his approba- 
tion, on purpose to interrupt him. 
He looked round at me, and, as he 
, turned his head, ** Yes, yes," said 
i he, "there you are perfectly right." 
i " No," cried I, unable to contain 
I my vexation, " you are mistaken, 
| I am not right." After a short pause 
of surprise, he rejoined, " I beg 
! your pardon, sir, I was not speak- 
ing to you, but to this gentleman," 



that I can forbear addressing him, 
even in the public street, to make 
him ashamed of his errors. You 
must have heard of Angelo Ange- 
lottc, who posted himself in the 
most frequented part of the city, 
and requested passengers to propose 
a subject, on which, however diffi- 
cult, he would immediately deliver 



companion. " Very well," I replied, 
" and he is not right either." They 
both looked stedfaslly at me for a 
moment, then smiled at one another, 
and walked on with ihe utmost 
composure. 1 could plainly per- 
ceive that they took inefor an idiot, 
but for the very reason because 
they believed so, lam, to this hour, 



a long harangue. What he was in ; of a contrary opinion. No, sir, I 

eloquence, I am in disputation. I am neither mad, nor an idiot; but 

used to be very fond of taking a I labour under a serious complaint, 

walk in the Parks, but I was obliged and to avoid so many disagreeable 

to give it up, because I could never circumstances, I would fain be ca- 

indulge myself in this innocent re- pable of admitting that people may 

creation without meeting with some be right. With my spirit of cou- 



22 



FRAGMENTS, ANECDOTE*, &C. 



fradiction, I have made myself so 
many enemies, that I am not asked 
to the houses of any of my former 
acquaintance, except by such as 
wish to amuse themselves at my 
expence, and therefore: invite ano- 
ther person who is almost as fond 
of disputation as I am myself. 
Here we are pitted theone against the 
other, arid wrangle till our host is 
heartily tired of our company, and 
dismisses us again. All this you may 
easily imagine cannot pass off with- 
out involving me in many an un- 
pleasant afFair; and as the effects 
seem tobecomedaily more and more 
injurious, I have to request you, 
for mercy's sake, to prescribe some 
remedy from one of the three king- 
doms of nature, which may either 



i make me hold my tongue, or at 
! least cause me to believe that I am 
' now and then in the wrong. But 

let it be a powerful one, for my 

constitution is naturally very strong. 

In anxious expectation of hearing: 

from you, I am, &c. 

Ergo, Professor, fyc. $?c. 



REPLY OF DR. 

Mr. Professor, 

God be praised, there is yet 
a cure for your complaint. I know 
of a powerful remedy, more pow- 
erful than any from the three king- 
doms of nature, which has already 
reduced many a philosopher to si- 
lence. Take a wife, and my 

life for it you will find no occasion 
to repeat the dose. Your's, &c. 



FRAGMENTS, ANECDOTES, &c. 



QUANZ. 
Quanz, the celebrated flutist, 
and instructor of the great Frederic 
of Prussia, had an intimate ac- 
quaintance named Schindler. After 
thedealh of the latfer he continued 
upon the same friendly terms as be- 
fore with his widow. One day 
when he called to see her, she com- 
plained of a violent head-ach and 
pain in her side. She was obliged 
to go to bed, and growing worse and 
worse, a physician and confessor 
were sent for. The former declared 
the symptoms to be of the most 
alarming nature, and the latter pro- 
posed to administer extreme unc- 
tion ; while Quanz, oppressed with 
grief, was seated beside the bed of 
the patient. In a low voice, ren- 
dered almost inarticulate by frequent 
sighs, she told him, that she should 
die happy, if she could go to the 
grave us the wife of so worthy a I 



man. Quanz, in order to gratify 
her, agreed to every thing she pro- 
posed, and they were immediately 
united by the priest. Scarcely was 
the nuptial ceremony concluded, 
when the lady sprang laughing from 
her bed, and Quanz stood open- 
mouthed and confounded to find 
himself an involuntary Benedict. 
rameau. 
Rameau and M. de Boisgelou the 
elder were one summer evening tak- 
ing a walk in the fields, and came 
to a morass where hundreds of frogs 
were setting up a hideous croaking. 
Rameau could not endure it, and 
would have run away, but Boisge- 
lou holding him fast for a moment, 
said, " These notes of the frogs, 
my friend, are quite as natural as 
your system of thorough-bass." 

POItPORA. 

Porpora, the musician, was a 
man of considerable wit and very 



FRAGMENTS, ANECDOTES, &C. 



23 



clever at repartee. Bein<r one day 
at an abbey in Germany, the monks 
requested his attendance at (heir 
service, that he might hear their 
organist, whose abilities they ex- 
tolled to the skies. When the ser- 
vice was over, the prior went upto 
him, " Well, sir," said he exult- 
ingly, " what think yon of our 
organist ?" — " I should like him 

better," replied Porpora, " if. " 

— " Oh ! he is a very skilful man," 
rejoined the prior, " and likewise 
a good man, a man full of charity 
and truly evangelical simplicity." 
— •' As for his simplicity,*' answer- 
ed Porpora, " I could not help ob- 
serving it, for his left hand knows 
not what his right hand doth." 

ALBERT BISHOP OF RATISBON. 

Cartaud do la Villatte speaking 
of the reveries of Albert the Great, 
Bishop of Ratisbon, and Cardinal 
Da illy, says, " They allotted the 
planets to different religions. The 
sun fell to the share of Christianity : 
for this reason it is that we hold 
Sunday in such veneration ; that 
Rome is the solar cihy, the sacred 
city ; and that the cardinals, who 
reside there, wear red habits, which 
is the colour of the sun." 

LADY JANE GREV. 

M. Morgenstern, professor of the 
university of Dorpat, in Russia, 
has recently, in a tour to Italy, dis- 
covered three unpublished letters 
of Lady Jane Grey in the library 
at Zurich. They are addressed to 
the celebrated divine, Henry JJiil- 
linger, dean of the church of Zu- 
rich, on occasion of his work en- 
titled De Pcrfcctione Christiano- 
riou. These letters arc decribed as 
peplete with sentiment and exalted 
piety. Their style is truly classi- 
cal. The second is dated 1jj2, and 



was consequently written the year 
before that in which this unfor- 
tunate female was brought to the 
block. 

BXTRAOR DIN ARY EATER . 
In the course of the last century 
there was in Saxony a man, who, 
for money, made a profession of 
eating every thing that fell in his 
way. A sheep, a calf, or a hog 
was not sufficient for a breakfast; 
he devoured besides two bushels of 
cherries with the stones. lie would 
grind with his teeth beef bones, 
glass, and even flints; and eat liv- 
ing animals, such as rats, cats, 
mice, caterpillars, crows, &c. One 
day a writing-desk, lined will) iron 
plater, was given to him: heat length 
tore it in pieces with his teeth and 
swallowed the whole, together with 
the copper inkstand, the ink, pen- 
knife, sand, and all its contents. 
Seven credible witnesses attested the 
fact before the senate of Wirtem- 
berg. This tremendous eater en- 
joyed robust health io the age of 
GO years. His history, and the ac- 
count of the dissection of his body, 
furnished the subject of a treatise, 
published at Wirtemberg, with this 
title — De Poliphago et Triophago 
Wir t ember gensi. 

ST. CATHARINE. 

The Spaniards are thoroughly 
convinced, that St. Catharine re- 
ceived the degree of doctor at the 
university of Alcala ; and a few 
years since, if any one had been 
bold enough to doubt the circum- 
stance, he would have been roughly 
handled by the inquisition. This 
celebrated promotion has even b en 
made the subject of a play. The 
first act is occupied by the fu- 
neral of a professor of theology. 
in the second Jesus Christ exhous 



24 



fragments;, anecdotes, &c. 



St. Catharine to apply for the va- 
cant situation. He puts a divine 
cap on her head, and immediately 
she feels herself equipped with all 
kinds of scholastic subtilties and 
all the qualities requisite for dispu- 
tation. She boldly appears in the 
midst of the learned veterans, ascends 
the pulpit, resigns herself to the in- 
fluence of her cap, and comes off 
victorious in every disputation. At 
length an aged doctor, pale and 
bowed down with the weight of 
years, makes his appearance ; a pro- 
digious pair of spectacles bestrides 
his prodigious nose. "With the 
train of his long gown he sweeps 
the ground, but his train is not long 
enough to conceal a knotty tail, 
■which betraj's the stranger ; 'tis the 
Devil himself. The whole reverend 
assembly is fixed in mute astonish- 
ment ; every one is anxious to ob- 
serve how St. Catherine, or rather 
her cap, will sustain the arduous 
conflict. The Devil, one of the 
most subtle philosophers of his age, 
begins with denying the immorta- 
lity of the soul. Catharine suffers 
him to proceed for some time; at 
length she rises with triumphant 
air, and submits to Satan the fol- 
lowing conclusion : — li Orpheus 
fetched his wife out of hell, ergo 
her soul was immortal." And be- 
hold the Devil is struck dumb and 
vanishes with a horrid stench: the 
whole assembly bursts forth into 
loud applauses ; Catharine is for- 
mally created a doctor, and the 
piece concludes with a ballet, in 
which the professors of theology 
join in a merry dance. 

WOLFISH JUSTICE. 

An abbey situated among the 
mountains of Auvergne, was, in a 
manner, besieged by wolves, when 



the ground was covered with snow. 
One winter the number of these fero- 
cious animals increased to such a 
degree, that the prior sent to re- 
quest some hunters in the neigh- 
bourhood to unite together for the 
purpose of ridding the district of 
these troublesome visitors. Ten or 
twelve resolute fellows repaired to 
the abbey, but agreed that the great 
depth of the snow would not permit 
them to give chase to the enemy. 
The very evening of their arrival, 
the most terrible howlings announc- 
ed the approach of the wolves ; 
they were in greater force than 
usual, and they were, in fact, 
drawn together by a particular cause. 
A horse had died at the abbey, and 
had been laid on the outside of the 
stable. The wolves advanced al- 
most to the foot of the wall. An 
experienced hunter presently con- 
trived this plan : — He directed the 
horse to be dragged into the middle 
of the court, and that the gate 
should be kept half open by a cord, 
by the loosing of which it might be 
suffered to shut at pleasure. He 
then posted his companions, who 
were well armed, at different win- 
dows, and all the lights were extin- 
guished. All observed a profound 
silence. In about an hour a wolf 
of monstrous size appeared at the 
gate. Ho advanced with extreme 
precaution, walked round the horse, 
and departed, looking behind him 
as he went. He soon returned, fol- 
lowed by twenty-two other wolves, 
who rushed all at once upon their 
prey. When they were thus busily 
engaged, the gate was shut, and 
the hunters fired upon them from 
the windows. The troop, in con- 
sternation, fled in all directions, 
and every where sought an outlet. 



FRAGMENTS, ANECDOTES, Sec. 



25 



but in vain. The animals then form- 
ed a circle, or to speak more pro- 
perly, assembled in council, and 
presently rushed upon the leader 
•who had brought them into this di- 
lemma, and fore him in pieces. 
Having inflicted this punishment, 
they all suffered themselves to be 
killed without resistance. 

SICILIAN Uf.Vr.NGK AND SICILIAN 
HONOUtt. 

A German officer who served as 
aide-de-camp to the Prince of Hesse 
Philipsthal atGaeta,in Sicily, and 

lastly in Calabria, where he was 
taken prisoner by the French, pub- 
lished, a few years since, on his 
return to his native country, an 
account of his campaigns, or rather 
of his adventures. From this work 
arc extracted the two following 
anecdotes, illustrative of the man- 
ners of the Sicilians : 

The governor of Girgenti having; 
conceived a vehement passion for a 
young country girl who every mar- 
ket day passed under his windows, 
sent to offer her the most, brilliant 
proposals, which she rejected; he 
spoke to her himself, but with no 
better success. Enraged at this 
refusal, lie directed some of his 
creatures to waylay her: she was 
seized and brought to him. After 
a long and fruitless search, the fa- 
ther, a respectable old man, disco- 
vered the villain who had robbed 
him of li is child. lie instantly re- J 
paired to Girgenti, and sent word 
to the governor, that he had in for- \ 
mation of the utmost importance to j 
communicate. He was admitted to I 
his presence, and asked permission ; 
to speak to him without witnesses. | 
When they were alone, headdress- 
ed him in these words: " You have 
my daughter ; restore her to me this j 

No. XLIII. Vol. VI IT. 



moment, or you shall die by my 
hand." The irnvernor gave a loud 
shriek; the old man aimed a blow 
at him with a stiletto, which, being 
parried input, inflicted but a slight 
wound. 'I lie attendants hastened to 
their master's aid ; the peasant was 
apprehended, and before he was 
removed, the governor signed before 
his face the order for his execution. 
The very same evening the unhappy 
father suffered on the gallows. I lis 
still more wretched daughter, hear- 
ing at once of the attempt and mi- 
serable fate of her father, expired 
in an agony of grief and despair. 
The intelligence of this tr i<>ic cata- 
strophe soon readied the hamlet 
where the old man led left his throe 
sons. These youths, equally robust 
and courageous, bound themselves 
by an oath at the foot of the 
altar, to revenge their father and 
sister, or to perish. They flew to 
Girgenti, and in vain endeavoured 
to gain access to the governor, who 
was kept at home by his wound ; 
neither did they return till they 
learned that their enemy was to (_ r o 
on a certain day to the cathedral, 
to be present at some great solem- 
nity. At the time appointed, the 
three brothers, armed with guns 
like? mountain hunters coming to 
sell (heir game, entered the city, 
and placed themselves on the watch 
before the residence of the gover- 
nor. The latter soon made his ap- 
pearance. One of the young pea- 
sants advanced, and presenting his 
piece, cried, u Die, thou execu- 
tioner of our father ! Die, assassin 
of our sister !" lie instantly fired, 
and the irovernor fell dead on the 
spot. " We will serve in the same 
manner every one who shall attempt 
to oppose our passage," exclaimed 
E 



26 



ON COMMERCE. 



the two others, placing themselves 
on either side of their eldest bro- 
ther, with their pieces ready to fire. 
The by-standers, seized with con- 
sternation, remained motionless, and 
before the proper authorities could 
issue the necessary orders for the 
pursuit of these young men, they 
had reached a place of safety. In 
that part of the country where they 
reside, they may flatter themselves 
with the hope of everlasting impu- 
nity. 

The second of these anecdotes is 
not less characteristic. 

A wealthy merchant, from the 
interior of the island, had been to 
Palermo, where he had transacted a 
good deal of business. Before his 
departure for his home, as he would 
have the mountains to cross, he 
thought it prudent to take all possi- 
ble precautions for his security. 
He therefore repaired, according to 
the usual custom, to the well-known 
agent of a band of robbers, to in- 
sure his property. He was asked 
the amount that he had about him; 
he opened both his pocket-book and 
his girdle, which contained a con- 
siderable sum as well in paper as in 
specie. The agent referred to his 
table, and the merchant paid agree- 
ably to the fixed rate of insurance. 
He set out accompanied with atrusty 
person, who was sent to him, and 
who engaged to bear him harmless. 
The first day nothing particular 
happened, but the next morning, 
in the passage of a narrow defile, 
two robbers presented themselves, 



and required the merchant to give 
up whatever he had about him. 
His guide addressed them, and re- 
presented to his comrades that the 
traveller had paid the regular dues 
for insurance, and even shewed them 
the passport which he had received 
from the agent to the band. The 
robbers, who were halfdrunk, would 
listen to no expostulations ; they 
pointed their stilettoes against the 
breast of the traveller, who recom- 
mended himself to the protection of 
his conductor. But what was his 
despair, when he saw him join the 
other two, and threaten him with 
death if he delayed to satisfy them! 
He therefore loosed his girdle ; the 
guide took it, opened it, and turn- 
ed out its contents upon the ground. 
The robbers stooped to pick up the 
money ; the guide flew to them 
while thus employed, and blew out 
the brains of both with his pistols. 
The traveller, who shook in every 
limb, knew not whether he ought to 
hope or fear. " Take up your 
money," said the bandit ; i( these 
wretches disgraced their profession, 
but I have punished them for it. 
What would become of our insur- 
ance-office if travellers could no 
longer rely on our word?" The 
rest of the journey was performed 
without molestation, and the rob- 
ber, having attended the merchant 
in safety to his home, requested 
him to give all possible publicity to 
his adventure, for the encourage- 
ment of trade. 



ON COMMERCE, 

No. XXI 



We next come to the Cape 
de Verd Islands, the principal of 
which, St. Jaero, is the residence 



of the viceroy, invested with the 
command of all the possessions of 
the crown of Portugal, from Cape 



POLITO'S MENAQERIE, EXETER CHANCE. 



5>7 



Verd to the Cape of Good Hope 
These islands furnish refreshments 
to such ships, bound (hat way, as 
may stand in need of them : what 
trade there is, is carried on chiefly 
by the Portuguese themselves, ex- 
cept what may casually be demand- 
ed by those ships which happen to! 
touch there for refreshments. The 
soil is mostly rocky and barren, 
with some fruitful vales intermixed, 
and their produce consists of Indian ; 
corn, cocoa-nuts, oranges, and other 
tropical fruits, with roots and gar- 
den-stuff; goats, hogs, black cat- 
tle, &c. Great quantities of salt [ 
are made in the islands of Sal and 
Bonavista, wherewith they preserve 
the flesh of their tame cattle, as also 
the fish caught on their coasts, for 
exportation to the Brazils. They 
also export the raw hides of their 
cattle, together with those of their 
goats, of which last the Island of 
Mayo generally furnishes 6000 an- 
nually. All these are sent to Portu- 
gal, where they are used in the 
manufactures of the country, or 
exported elsewhere. The Islands 
of St. Vincent and Antonio carry 
on a trade which is tolerably lucra- 
tive, with the oil extracted from the 
turtles which resort thither at cer- 
tain times of the year ; likewise in 
buck-skins, which they dress after 



corn, citrons, annanas, and several 
other delicious fruils, with a great 
profusion of tame and wild fowl, 
which serve the inhabitants for food, 
as well as to victual the ships that 
touch there. 

Proceeding still southerly, we 
come to St. Helena ; this island was 
taken by the English from the 
Dutch in the reign of Charles II. 
and has continued in their possession 
ever since ; it is not a place of any 
trade, except (hat maybe so called 
which takes place upon the arrival 
of the East India shipping, either 
outward or homeward bound. On 
these occasions a kind of tnitlic is 
carried on between the inhabitants 
on the one part, and the crews and 
passengers of the ships on the other ; 
the first furnishing the new-comers 
with refreshments, lodgings, &c 
during their stay, and the latter 
supplying the inhabitants will) arti- 
cles either the produce of Europe 
or India, as the case may be. The 
productions of the island areorariges 1 , 
citrons, pomegranates, figs, and 
other fruits; peas, beans, and other 
garden stuff. It has also excellent 
white salt, bole, or red earth, much 
like terra sigillata, and some red 
dying stuffs. The com modi ties given 
in exchange, are some wines, thin 
stuffs of a low price, various sorts 



the manner of Spain and Portugal, j'j of linens, hardware, haberdashery, 
We may also add, that they pro- household utensils, and agricultural 
ducc, in addition to what has been \ instruments. 
already stated, rice, millet, Turkey |l Mercator & Co. 



IK iVJJim ' Mi.gJMM 



Plate 2.— POLITO'S MENAGERIE, EXETEll CHANGE. 



Among the various advantages I 
enjoyed by the inhabitants of most j 
large cities, is the opportunity of i 
gaining a more intimate acquaint- j 



ance with many of the stupendous 

and interesting productions of na- 
ture, than can be obtained from 
books. For persons of cultivated 
E 2 



28 



POLITO'S MENAGEUIE, EXETER CHANGE. 



minds the study of natural history 
has strong attractions, and such will 
eagerly avail themselves of the faci- 
lities afforded them for an ocular 
examination of those animals by the 
account of whose peculiarities of 
figure, habit, and maimers they 
have been so often amused. 

No place, perhaps, presents such 
ample means of gratifying this lau- 
dable curiosity as London, where 
various collections, both of dead 
and living subjects, invite the at- 
tention of the inquisitive. The su- 
periority of the latter for conveying 
correct ideas of animated nature, is 
too obvious to need remark. Im- 
pressed with this consideration, 
the late Mr. Pidcock began to 
form a Menagerie for public exhi- 
bition, and in an opulent and en- 
lightened age his exertions could 
scarcely fail of answering his most 
smguine expectations. On his 
death about two years since, his 
collection was transferred to Mr. 
Polito, the present proprietor. 

This Menagerie occupies the up- 
per part of the building known by 
the name of Exeter Change, and is 
distributed in three apartments. 
Up one flight of stairs is the first 
and principal of these, of which a 
correct representation is given in 
the annexed engraving, except that, 
by a licence in which artists, like 
poets, aie frequently indulged, one 
or two alterations have been intro- 
duced, for the purpose of heighten- 
ing the picturesque effect of the 
whole. For instance, the tirst cage 
on the right hand, instead of being 
occupied by a Iron, contains, like 
the adjoining one, a very beautiful 
Bengal tiger, of the variety digni- 
fied with the epithet of royal; and 
the. den at the extremity ol ike room, 



where the elephant is seen in our 
view, is divided horizontally into 
two compartments, in the lower of 
which is an hyaena, a beast which 
seems remarkably wild ; and in the 
upper a _young lion, the only one 
left to this Menagerie out of seven 
which it some time since possessed. 
A remarkably fine and majestic 
male lion, which is said to have 
cost .j£400, died in the month of 
May last, and his death is supposed 
to have been hastened by the loss 
of a female, to which he appeared 
attached with an affection that would 
scarcely be expected in a brute. It 
is not improbable that the generous 
nature of this noble animal is more 
sensible to the privation of that li- 
berty which he enjoyed in his native 
deserts, than the more sanguinary 
and prefidious varieties of the tiger, 
;he leopard, the panther, Sec. Of 
all these there are specimens in this 
apartment, as also of the real jaguar, 
or tiger-cat, lately imported from 
Amboyna ; a male and female of 
that singular animal the ursine sloth, 
recently discovered in the interior 
of India; the great Egyptian camel, 
with an extensive and pleasing va- 
riety of the ape and monkey tribe, 
of parroquets, and other curious 
and interestingsubjects. Thctapiir, 
or hippopotamusof the New World, 
in particular, is worthy of notice on 
account of its long snout, which 
forms a sort of proboscis capable of 
voluntary ex tens ion and con tract ion. 
This animal is the most prominent 
figure in the second cage from the 
right in our engraving. 

The second room, which turns off 
on the right, at the entrance into 
the former, contains a male ele- 
phant, who, should he ever live to 
return to the banks of the Ganges, 



POLITo's MENAGERlKj EXETER CHANGE. 



29 



nii<;ht astonish liis fellows with an J weight of ship-biscuit, :md a pro- 
accoiint of the applauses which hell digiousquantityofgreens every day. 
obtained, in conjunction with biped He was likewise allowed five pail* 
performers, on the principal stage of water twice or thrice in the same 
in one of the most polished cities oft] time. lie was extremely fond of 
the world ; for, he it known to the ji sweet wines, and won Id sometimes 



reader, that this is the identical ele- 
phant that delighted crowded an- , 

diences, for forty successive nights, I 
at the Theatre Royal; Covent-Gar- j 
dcn\ Next to this noble animal is 
lodged the rhinoceros, who is little, 
if at all inferior in size to his neigh- 
bour, having grown surprisingly 
since his arrival in this country in 
IS 10. This beast is rendered for- 
midable by an exceedingly hard 
and solid horn, which grows near 
the point of his snout, sometimes 
to the length of nearly four feet ; 
and his hide is so impenetrable as to 
resist leaden musket-balls, for which 
reason the hunters are obliged to use 
iron ones to dispatch him. The 
only two animals of this species 
which were brought to England for 
a considerable number of years, be- 
fore that of which we are speaking, 
were both purchased for this Mena- 
gerie. The first, whose skin is still 
preserved, was about live years old, 
and was bought by Mr. Pidcock 
for ^700. His docility was nearly 
equal to that of a tolerably tractable 
pig; he would obey his master's 
orders, walk about the room to 
exhibit himself, and even allow 
visitors to pat him on the back or 
side. His voice bore some resem- 
blance to the bleating of a calf, and 
was most commonly excited when 
lie perceived persons with fruit or 
other favourite food in their hands. 
His food was invariably seized with 
his projecting upper lip, and con- 
veyed by it to his mouth. He usu- 
ally ;ite 2Slbs. of clover, the same 



drink three or four bottles in the 
course of a lew hours. In October, 
1792, this animal was rising up 
suddenly, when he dislocated one 
of his fore legs, and this accident 
occasioned his death about nine 
months afterwards. He died in ;i 
caravan near Portsmouth, and the 
smell arising from the body was so 
intolerable, that the mayor ordered 
it to be immediately buried. In 
about a fortnight, however, it was 
privately dug up in the night, for 
the purpose of preserving its skin 
and some of the most valuable of its 
bones; but the stench was so pow- 
erful that the persons employed 
found the greatest difficulty in ac- 
complishing the operation. 

The second rhinoceros exhibited 
here was considerably smaller than 
the former. He was brought over 
in 1799, and purchased by an agent 
of the Emperor of Germany, for 
<s£»000 ; but died about two months 
after he was sold, in a stable-yard 
in Drury-lane. 

In the third apartment, which is 
over the two others, the spectator 
finds some of the largest species of 
the feathered tribe ; among the rest 
a gigantic male ostrich, which is 
said to weigh upwards of SOOlbs: 
and to be 11 feet high ; the casso- 
wary: the pelican of the wilderness ; 
two large emeus ; the southern os- 
trich of Linnaeus from Van Dicmnn's 
Land ; the Cyrus, or great crane 
ot' Bengal; several Balearic, or 
| crown crane.*, from the coast of 
Guinea; a pair of curasso?s from 



30 



POLITO'S MENAGERIE, EXETER CHANGE. 



the Bay of Honduras ; and the eagle 
and condor of South America. Some 
of these, as well as the different 
kinds of cockatoos and parroquels, 
display the most brilliant colours, 
tfere is also shewn the great female 
elk of North America ; two pairs 
of kangaroos, one of which may 
now be seen fostering her young one 
in the remarkable pouch with which 
nature has furnished this creature; 
and the nilghau, an interesting and 
apparently very tame species of the 
antelope family. This remark agrees 
with the observations of the late Dr. 
Hunter, who for some time kept 
two that were brought to England ; 
and has given some account of the 
manners of this curious animal. In 
the 61st volume of the Philosophical 
Transactions, he says, that though 
the nilghau was generally reported 
to be extremely vicious, yet that 
which was the subject of his obser- 
vations was very gentle. It seemed 
pleased with, every kind of familia- 
rity, always licked the hand which 
stroked or gave it bread, and never 
attempted to use its horns offensive- 
ly. Its manner of fighting was very 
particular: — This was observed at 
Lord Clive's, where two males were 
put into a Utile inclosure. While 
yet at a considerable distance, they 
prepared for the attack by failing 
on their fore-knees, and when they 
had advanced within some yards, 
they made a spring, and darted 
against each other. The force with 
which they thus dart against any 
object, may be conceived from a 
circumstance that happened to one 
of the finest and largest of these 
creatures ever seen in England. A 
poor labouring man, without know- 
ing that the animal was near him, 
came up to the pales of the inclo- 



sure in which it was kept; the nil- 
ghau, with the rapidity of light- 
ning, darted against the poles with 
such violence as to shatter them in 
pieces, and to break off one of his 
horns close to the root. To this 
accident was attributed his death, 
which soon after followed. Hence 
it appears, that however gentle this 
creature may sometimes be, it is on 
other occasions equally vicious and 
fierce. 

The last curiosity which we shall 
mention in this upper apartment, is 
the skeleton of a whale, about 60 
feet long, which has 22 ribs, 11 on 
each side, and 54 vertebras or joints 
in the back-bone. 

We cannot conclude our brief 
remarks on this collection, which, 
as the property of a private indivi- 
dual, is perhaps unique, without 
payinga deserved tribuleofapplause 
to the present spirited owner, for 
his exertions to increase it with rare 
animals ; for the improved arrange- 
ment which he has introduced ; and 
for the extreme attention bestowed 
on the removal of every thing offen- 
sive. When the heavy disburse- 
ments attending these objects, as 
well as the subsistence of such a 
large number of animals are consi- 
dered, the charge of half-a-crown 
cannotbul appear extremely reason- 
able ; and we can assure every per- 
son who loves to contemplate the 
wonderful works of the Almighty 
Creator, that he will not regret a 
visit to the Menagerie at Exeter 
Change. The precautions for the 
security of the spectators are so 
complete, that the most timid female 
cannot feel the least apprehension ; 
and those for the preservation of 
cleanliness and a due degree of ven- 
tilation so effectual, that the most 



ETYMOLOGICAL NOVELTIES. 



SI 



delicate may approach without 
distrust. 

Before we conclude, \vc beg leave 
to suggest (o the proprietor, whether 
it would not be likely to prove an 
accommodation to the public, as 
well as a relief to his own attend- 
ants, if he were to print a catalogue, 



I at least, of the various animals cx- 
I hibited, with numbers, and corre- 
sponding ones affixed to their re- 
i spectivc dens or cages. Such a 
guide might be afforded at a very 
I trifling expence, and would cer- 
I tainly recommend itself by its use- 
' fulness to the generality of visitors. 



ETYMOLOGICAL NOVELTIES. 

No. III. 

Extravagance, originally extra-vagrants, from its adding so 
much to (he community of beggars. 

TlRE. Wheels arc tired because continually travelling 

from one place to another ; and yet nothing so 
effectually wears it off' as incessant motion. 

Battery, part of a fortification, so called from the ma- 

noeuvring of cricketers who send oft" balls from 
their bat awry. 

Herd of oxen, pigs, &c. thus denominated because from 

their bellowing, squeaking, and grunting they are 
sure to be heard. 

Worship, your worship, his worship, terms used in ad- 

dressing or speaking of magistrates; they origi- 
nated in a nickname given to those grave per- 
sonages by the rogues, so many of whom they 
have sent to serve on board war-ships. 

Coffin, a kind of box which most people go off in. 

Some etymologists derive this word from coughing, 
one of the symptoms of consumption, which is 
more deadly in this island than any other disorder. 

Marvellous. Wonders were originally said to be marblc-ous, 

because they made folks stare and roll their eye* 
about. 

Usher, one who, in the absence of the master, labours 

in vain to preserve silence amidst a host of noisy, 
squabbling school-boys — hence, by way of jest, 
his approach was hailed, " Here comes the 
hush-er. n 

Zephyrs, properly see-fars — light breezes which clear the 

air. 

Abaddon, one of the numerous names given to the devil. 

Some of the learned have been at great pains to 
trace this appellation from the Grc, k and Hebrew 
languages, and assert, that it signifies a destroyer; 



32 ETYMOLOGICAL NOVELTIES. 

(hough it must be obvious to every school-boy, 
that it is neither more nor less than a bad one. 

Attorney. It appears from the malpractices of pettifoggers 

in the law in all ages, that no pest to society has 
been suffered to remain so long unremoved. 
Hence the term, a tawney, corrupted into 
attorney, was given by way of caution, that they 
might not be mistaken fox fair men. 

Poor-laws. This appellation was given as a reproof to the 

legislature of an enlightened country, on account 
of the defectiveness of a certain part of its laws, in 
contradistinction to the justice and wisdom of the 
rest of the code of jurisprudence. The continu- 
ance of such a system is a reproach to those whom 
Providence has placed above wretchedness and 
poverty. Poor lazes, indeed ! 

Maid. This is a playful contradiction — maid before 

marriage, no longer maid when married, and 
yet made when well married. 

Justice, a quality eminently displayed by the Greeks, 

Romans, and others, where the virtues of the 
camp superseded all feeling, where fathers ad- 
judged their children to death, owning no rela- 
tions but those which bound them to their 
country, and banishing from their hearts every 
spark of mercy; whence they were considered to 
be neither better nor worse than just ice. 

Cross-posts, so called, not from being out of the road, but 

out of the xcay. The vexation of the disappoint- 
ed inhabitants of such places arising from the 
irregular delivery of letters, parcels, &c. led to 
the application of the term of cross-posts. 

Heigh-ho! A cockney corruption by the addition of the two 

aspirates. The feeling that produces this ejacu- 
lation must be well known to all our brother 
scribblers, and too many of our readers. When 
we think of our troublesome creditors — and when 
do we not? — what idea rushes upon our minds ? 
Alas, / owe ! 

Mercury. This insidious deity, always studying to ingra- 

tiate himself with those whom he meant to cheat 
or dupe, was dubbed by the other gods a mere- 
curry. 

Virtu* This word originated in the vast care, toil, and 

ex pence bestowed by men of wealth, and men of 
learning, who have run over the world in quest of 
fragments of ancient art, to collect immortal Ju- 



ETYMOLOGICAL NOVDLTir.S. 33 

niters without heads, Apollos without hands, 
ancient Venuses, dirty and mutilated like (he 
Venuses of St. Giles's, and Mercury's exceeded 
in knavish physiognomy only by (he modern 
rogues who made them ; and who have yet over- 
looked and neglected the merits of many ingenious 
men oftheirown a<re and country. At first t lie word 
was intended to have theJinalE; but \v he.n the merits 
of these travelling coxcombs were fai.ly debated, 
the pursuit was not considered a virtue, and thus 
the word was reduced to virtu, as a lasting shame 
to those who possessed the means of obtaining- (lie 
true reward of patriotic: efforts. 

Layman, a figure used by painters in contriving attitudes, 

anciently lame man, from the stiffness w ith which 
the joints are made to move ; but since the Re- 
formation, layman, as emphatically allusive to 
the Sabbath-breaking habits of them and their 
masters, inured as they are to this professional 
vice, they may surely be considered inveterate 
laymen, and unfit for any holy orders, save orders 
for bishops' portraits or bishops' half-lengths*. 

Punnus, the forlorn hope of an army. This word is de- 

rived from the reprobate habits too common 
among soldiers. 1 'hose gallant fellows, volunteer- 
ing on desperate service, are corruptly called 
Perdus, from Pardieus — " lie swears like a 
trooper." 

{j'uile, commonly synonimous with fraud, deceit, is a 

technical term for a brewing of ale or porter, and 
occasionally used among brewers with a signifi- 
cant wink at each other, as " fire burns and 
cauldron bubbles," while, witch-like, they walk 
round, throw in certain ingredients (o charm the 
senses, and exclaim, " 'lis this we live by !" 
pointing to the guile. 

Goal. The name of this building is sadly tantalizing to 

its unfortunate inhabitants, for while it seems to 
say to them go all, its bolts, and bars, and turn- 
keys oblige them to stay all. 

Hideous. This epithet is applied to objects which being 

frightful, horrible to look at, seem to say, Hide 
us. 

Cauterize, to burn by actual or potential cautery. This 

word originated, as the story goes, with a love- 



* A name technically given to a canvas of certain dimensions. 

No, XLIII. Vol. VIII. F 



31 



ETYMOLOGICAL NOVELTIES. 



IRONICAL, 



Beadles, 



Eire or Eyre,) 
Herald, 

Gazette, 
Hearse, 



Glacis, 

Roundhouse 

Novice, 
Noviciate. 



sick surgeon, whose ardent flame burned fiercer 
by the radiance of his Chloe's eyes, that is, when 
he caught her eyes. 

from ire on I call, as persons using that figure of 
rhetoric which is termed irony, certainly incur 
the danger of exciting the ire of those who are 
the objects of it. 

ward and parish beadles, beadles at cily halls, 
&c. These officers, in cruel derision of their 
arduous and fatiguing avocations, were originally 
termed Be-idles, for which appellation some of 
their number ingeniously substituted the mode of 
spelling now currently adopted, 
the court of justices itinerant, justices in eyre, or 
air, so called from their flying about and travers- 
ing from one place to another, 
an officer at arms, whose duty it is to denounce 
war, proclaim peace, &c. whose harangues in- 
variably commence in substance with the exhor- 
tation, Hear all. 

a species of newspaper containing information 
which people are always extremely eager to 
gaze at. 

a close carriage for a dead body, used in funeral 
processions, frequently covered with a profusion 
of nodding plumage and gaudy achievements, and 
seeming to say to the gaping beholders, Here see! 
We have our doubts, however, respecting this de- 
rivation, for there are 'cute reasoners who insist 
that the hearse is so called because about this time 
the heirs begin to be more looked up to and con- 
sidered than the defunct. 

in fortification, a sloping bank, ranging from the 
parapet of the covered way, so called because it 
is often as slippery as glass is. 
of a parish, a prison to secure those who have 
not discretion enough to keep within compass 
without it. 

literally a no-vice, an innocent female in a state 
of preparation for taking the veil. 
This word, though it apparently has the preced- 
ing for its root, has, in fact, a very different de- 
rivation. No vice I hate — the preparatory step, 
the first qualification for entering an university. 



35 



INTELLIGENCE, LITERARY, SCIENTIFIC, &c. 



Mr. Ackebhann baa announced 
li is intention of publishing by sub- 
scription, under (lie immediate pa- 
tronage of t lie very Reverend (lie 
Dean of Westminster, Two Co- 
loured Engravings, with descrip- 
tive letter-press, of the Procession 
and Ceremony of < be Installation of 
f he Knights of the Most Honourable 
Order of the Bath, from drawings 
by Mr. Frederic Nash. The hist 
of these drawings represents a finely 
selected part of the interior of West- 
minster Abbey, with the procession 



I on the consideration, that it is the 
scene of honourable distinction to 
those heroic characters, whose past 
actions have added to the renown, 
and whose future deeds, it may be 
fondly hoped, will aid the glorious 
purpose of establishing the pros- 
perity of the country. The size of 
these prints will be 20 inches by 15 ; 
and the price to the first 300 sub- 
scribers three guineas the pair, after 
that number it will be advanced to 
four guineas. 

The new and splendid edition of 



of the knights to Henry VIl.th's ij Somervile's Rural Sports, with 



Chapel. This splendid design, 
which has already attracted un- 
common attention, and called forth 
the admiration of every one who has 
seen it at the Exhibition of Water- 
Colours in Spring-Gardens, gives 
the fairest promise of what i:s com- 
panion will be, if the established 
character of the artist were not of 
Itself sufficient to justify every ex- 
pectation of excellence. The other 
subject will be the Ceremonial of 
the Installation, with all if s ac- 
cessory circumstances. Heraldic 
splendour, dignified solemnity, va- 
rious state, picturesque costume, the 
scene of Henry VIl.th's Chapel 
prepared for the inaguilicent show, 
with the contrasted appearance of 
those who are there to see and those 



engravings on wood by Ncsbit from 
Thurston's designs, announced in 
our last number as being in prepa- 
ration by Mr. Ackermann, will also 
be published by subscription. To 
the first fiva hundred names the 
price will be one guinea, and to all 
after that number <€l 116. The 
designs for this work will be printed 
on India paper, the effect of which 
method has been so generally ac- 
knowledged and so much admired 
in the Religious Emblems, lately 
submitted to the world by the same 
publisher. 

Mr. Charles Vernlam Williams 
has in the press A Life and Admi- 
nistration of the Right Honourable 



'-penctr Perceval. 
The Rev. James Hall, author of 
who are to be seen, will form a a Treatise on Ice, Heat, and Cold, 
combination of objects, which, when Travels in Scotland, &c. has in the 
brought into one view, will produce press Various and Instructive Jte- 
a picture that cannot fail, in the marks on Ireland, particularly the 
execution awaiting it, to gratify I interior and least known parts, drawn 
every admirer of the arts : nor will ( from actual observation on the spot, 
the eye alone be satisfied with such ' during a late tour in that country, 
a representation; an associate in- and calculated to give an accurate 
terest w ill be conveyed to the mind, ! view of the real stale of religion and 

F 2 



SG 



INTELLIGENCE, LITEltARY, SCIENTIFIC, &C 



morals, as well as of the politics 
and improvements in the different 
provinces, with reflections and ob- 
servations, towards the conclusion, 
On the union of Britain and Ireland, 
i]\e practicability and advantage of 
a refcgrafihic communication be- 
tween the two kingdoms, and other 
matters of importance. 

The Rev. G. Faber is preparing 
for the press, Origines Mi/lholo- 
gicce, a work intended to show the 
fundamental identity and common 
origin of the various mythological 
systems of paganism. 

Dr. C. Badham, phj'sician to the 
Duke of Sussex, is translating 
Juvenal into English verse, with 
brief annotations. 

The Rev. George Crabbe is pre- 
paring a volume of Talcs, to be 
published uniform with his other 
works. 

Mr. John Bellamy is preparing 
A History of all Religions, con- 
taining an account of their rise, de- 
cline, descent, and changes, from 
the earliest times to the commence- 
ment of the Christian religion. 

The doubts which have existed 
of the fate of Mr. Mungo Parke are 
now removed, by the certain ac- 
counts lately received from Goree, 
of his having perished, through the 
hostility of the natives, on one of 
the branches of the Niger. The 
particulars have been transmitted to 
Sir Joseph Banks, by Governor 
Maxwell, of G'oree, who received 
them from Isaco, a Moor, sent in- 
land by the governor for the purpose 
of enquiry. In a letter to Mr. Dick- 
son, of Covent- Garden, brother- 
in-law to Mr. Parke, Sir Joseph 
thus writes: — '■ I have read Isaco'b 
translated journal ; by which it ap- 
pears that the numerous European 



retinue of Mungo Parke quickly 
and miserably died, leaving, at the 
last, only himself and a Mr. Martyn. 
Proceeding on their route, they 
stopped at a settlement, from which, 
according to custom, they sent a 
present to the chief whose territory 
they were next to pass. This pre- 
sent having been treacherously with- 
held, the chief considered it, in the 
travellers, as a designed injury and 
neglect. On their approaching, in 
a canoe, he assembled his people 
on a narrow channel of rocks, and 
assailed them so violently with ar- 
rows, that some of the rowers were 
killed. This caused Mr. Parke and 
Mr. Martyn to make an effort by 
swimming to reach the shore, in 
which attempt they both were 
drowned. This canoe shortlyafter- 
wards sunk, and only one hired 
native escaped. Every appurte- 
nance also of the travellers was 
lost or destroyed, except a sword- 
belt which had bolonged to Mr. 
Martyn, and which Isaco redeemed 
and brought with him to Goree." 

A young German, of the name of 
Rontgen, who left England about a 
twelvemonth since for Africa, in 
order to prosecute discoveries in 
the interior of that country, has 
also, it is said, been murdered by 
the Arabs, before he had proceeded 
any great distance from Mogadorc, 
where he spent sometime perfecting 
himself in the Arabic lan^ua<, r e. 
He was a promising young man, 
j and an enthusiast in the cause in 
i which he was lost, and supposed to 
I understand the Arabic language 
| better than any European who ever 
| before entered Africa. At an early 
i age he formed the plan of going to 
thai country, and gave up his con- 
nections and a competency in Ger- 



INTELLIGENCE, LITERARY, SCIENTIFIC, &C. 



37 



man)', (o prosecute Ms intentions. 
Tlis father was a character well 
known in Europe, who raised him- 
self from obscurity to the greatest 
celebrity by bistalent formechnnics; 
he was at one time worth a million, 
but was ruined by the French revo- 
lution. 



present a grand appca ranee, and 
have a great resemblance to artificial 
lire-works. During the day a co- 
lumnial whitish smoke issues from 
the crater: at night it has a flame- 
like appearance, and where if has 
been driven by the wind, has wither- 
ed the small dwarf pines which had 



A volcano has made its appear- I taken root in the barren soil of this 
ance in North America. On the j and the neighbouring mountains; 
morning of the lGth December last their bark and leaves are incrusted 
a great smoke was seen to issue from jj with a yellowish powder, which 
the top of Spear's Mountain, which II has an acrid taste and strong sul- 
is detached from the range that ex- '■[ phuric smell. No person has had 
tends from the Blue Ridge to Swan- courage sufficient to approach the 
hoc River, and ends some miles crater; but those who were ac- 
below its junction with French qua inted with the top of the moan- 
Broad. The mountain is conical , tan before the eruption, say that it 



and insulated ; its base is washed on 
the west side by French Broad 
River, on tin- east side it is separated 
by a narrow valley (Overhung in 
some places by large rocks) from 
that ridije called French Broad 
Mountains: their bare rocks, stunt- 
ed vegetation, and arid surface, 
shew that they have long felt that 
subterranean fire which probably 
gave heat to the warm springs, and 
has at last burst out with such 
dreadful fury. It still continues to 
burn with great violence, and throws 
up lava, scoria, ashes, calc 
stones, and vitrified matter, in 
great quantities, and with the most 
tremendous noise. Thequantityof 
lava discharged at the beginning of 
the eruption was immense; it ran 
down the mountain in a stream of 
liquid fire for more than a mile, and 
has formed a dam across French 
Broad River so high as to overflow 
about 200 acresof prime bottom land, 
to the great injury of the owners. In 
the night time the ignited st 
cinders, &c. which are thrown two 
or three hundred feet in the air, 



was uneven and very rocky. The 
crater appears (judging by the 
smoke) to be twenty yards in dia- 
meter, and is growing larger. A 
large mass fell in, with a greater 
noise than the loudest artillery; it 
shook the country round, and was 
echoed from the mountains and 
valleys. The lava, when cold, has 
the appearance of vitrified basalt. 
The stone on the mountain is hard 
and coarse grained, with an uneven 
conchoidal fracture, but no appear- 
ance of basalt. The scoria are 
sonorous, have a ferruginous ap- 
pearance, and shew strong magnetic 
attraction. The credulous people 
who inhabit the mountain view it 
with as much terror as the children 
of Israel did Mount Sinai. Some 
say the end of time is arrived, and 
think the crater is (he mouth of the 
•' bottomless pit :" the fantastic ap- 
pearances of the electric fluid, which 
is seen darting in various shapes 
through the smoke after night, by 
the heii - ) oi fancy, they transform 
into spirits, devils, &cj These wild 
ideas have been increased bv the 



38 



MUSICAL REVIEW. 



declarations of an ilinerant preach- 
er, who calls upon (hem to repent, 
not in the language of Jonah, " Yet 
forty d;tys," &c. but saying, " Be- 
hold the place of punishment for 
the wicked 1" 



MUSICAL REVIEW. 

The Over! it re, Chorusses, and 
whole, of Hie Music as performed 
at the Theatre Royal ', Coient- 
Garden, to the Grand Melodra- 
matic Opera, called the Virgin 
of the Sun, composed and 
compressed for the Piano- Forte, 
by Henry R. Bishop, Composer 
and Director of the Music to 
the Theatre Royal, Coxent- 
Garden ; the Poetry by F. Rey- 
nolds, Est[. Price, without the 
Chorusses, JOs. 6(i. ; Chorusses 
only, 7s. (kl. ; complete, ISs. 
It is more th;in once we have had 
an opportunity of doing justice to 
Mr. Bishop's talents for dramatic 
composition. Some of his ballets 
have maintained a favoured place in 
the collections of the amateurs to this 
day ; and his Circassian Bride has 
bidden defiance to the destructive 
element which levelled Drury-lane 
theatre to the ground. His music 
to the Virgin of the Sun, now be- 
fore us in extract, has met with 
great applause at the theatre, and 
may fairly be deemed to have con- 
tributed its share to the eminent 
success of a piece which was no 
longer a novelty on the British stage. 
A regular opera, in the strict sense 
of the term, it cannot be called ; 
for it is only in the first act that live 
or six songs and one duet occur. 
None of those are to be met Willi in 
the second act, which entirely con- 
sists of chorusses and pieces for se- 



veral voices. The nature of the 
overture, likewise, is incompatible 
with our idea of the laws of a real 
and good opera. Why fritter im- 
pression away by four successive 
movements ? — a lento, allegro, an- 
dante, and rondo, all of which, be 
they ever so good in themselves, 
form as incongruous a whole in this 
place, as if, in order to begin a re- 
past well, the host would set before 
his guests a tureen composed of 
gravy soup, mock turtle, ox-palate, 
and vermicelli. But the gallery, 
will it be said perhaps, must have a 
bit of a fiddlesolo, and a bit of a clari- 
net passage, to excite their astonish- 
ment. We, for our part, question 
this solo propensity of the gallery ; 
if it does exist, it has been forcibly 
reared; and indeed we have too 
good an opinion of Mr. B.'s abili- 
ties, to conceive them in need of 
clap-traps for the galleries. That 
he has composed for better ears 
than the galleries, the greatest pait 
of the opera, nay, the overture it- 
self, is our voucher. The introduc- 
tory lento bears a character of grave 
solemnity and of scientific expres- 
sion well suited to its purpose, in 
the allegro we remark with satisfac- 
tion its elegant moiivo and the vari- 
ety of modulations through more or 
less allied keys, frequently uncom- 
mon, and of striking dramatic effect. 
In regard to the songs, which are 
as folio w : 

1. " When in the World my 
Days I past,'" Miss Bolton — 

2. " The Bed of Roses;' Mr. 
Sinclair — 

3. " The Maidof the Mountain; 1 
Miss Feron — 

4. (Duel) " For Home and na- 
tive Land;' Messrs. Sinclair and 
Broad hurst — 



MUSICAL REVIEW. 



S9 



5. (Son<r) " When by a Parent's 
stern Command," Miss Fetoo-^* 

6. ^ In Coins Cause" Airs. 
Ciiildc — 

7. (Polacca) Twos Rolla brave, 
Mr. Sinclair — 

it would carry us far beyond our 
Jimi(s to analyze tin* component 
parts of each. Speaking, therefore, 
generally, we arc free to say, that, 
in the aggregate, they display con- 
siderable merit, both as to variety 
of ideas, expression in the melody, 
and (structure of (lie. accompani- 
ments. No. 1 is conceived in an 
easy ballad style, and ils harpeggio 
accompaniment is as simple. 01 
No. 2, ourgreatesl pari in lily leans 
towards the latter part, from " On 
thorns we tread," including the 
neat turn given to the burden, 
" Ne'er sleep on a bed of roses." 
No.3,* { The Maid of the Mountain," 
is entitled to particularly favourable 
notice. lis chaste melody conveys 
an impression of rural innocence, 
which is heightened by another very 
agreeable conclusion. J>nt the many 
pauses (from beginning toend, about 
a dozen lor six staves), although 
common in the works of the English 
school, are really injurious to its 
effect. Sparingly applied, they 
serve as a proper rest for the voice 
as well as the ear, and frequently 
prove an essential advantage in 
changing to another phrase. The i 
duet, No. 1, has many attractive 
ideas, and is altogether a creditable 
performance. The hm lody through- 
out is good ; the passage, ** Save 
when (his fervent prayer," highly 
interesting ; and the conclusion, 
4; For home," &c. very spirited. 
Ju the succeeding song of Miss' 
Feron, " When by a parenl's stem 
command," the symphony \o v Inch . 



demands our applause, we have to 
notice the lofty and appropriate 
expression of the words, " And 
descended from Jncis," &c. Mrs. 
(hilde's bravura, " In Cora's 
cause," is introduced by a recita- 
(ivo of much musical emphasis, 
and a well devised symphony. Here 
(he author lias taken a more elevated 
and by no means Icarian flight, 
suited to the diction of his text. 
The variety of select and impressive 
thoughts, successively linked toge- 
ther with much judgment, render 
tliis a meritorious performance, and 
divert the eye of the severer critic 
from (he notice ol sane harmonic 
imperfections, such as o.S2, /. 3, l>. 
3, where the tar is struck by th,e 
impression of successive fill lis. A 
slighter shade of the same effect oc- 
curs in (lie accompaniment of bar 
j, line 1, i.'i the same puge, which, 
altogether, would have been bene- 
fited by a core careful revision. 
The polacca sung by Mr. Sinclair, 
Ins our entire commendation. Not 
only (he motivo, but the succeeding 
phrases, p ssess a high degree of 
sprightly elegance, if any thing 
were to be wished for, it would be 
a more brilliant conclusion lor such 
a shewy composition, than the mere 

roduction of (lie motivo. 
various movements appertuinin 
the storm scene, claim unqualified 
The musical colouring of 
the introductory quartett (p. \\) 
expresses most intelligibly (he emo- 
tions of anxiety and dread in the 
text; and (he several succeeding 
movements, not io forget (he earth- 
quake allegro in live flats, exhibit 
a richness of poetic i mag in ition and 
science, and an intimacy with the 
requisites of dramatic effect, which 
do honjui ;o ike talents of the co.u- 



40 



MUSICAL REVIEW 



poser. The same praise is due to 
the different chorusses and pieces 
for several voices, which engross 
the rest of the work. The numerous 
and frequently original transitions 
bespeak the author's knowledge of 
the management and effect of dis- 
cords; and the judicious variation 
of keys, tempos, and thoughts, shews 
that a cultivated mind, in every 
instance, had seized the intent of 
the text, and guided the pen of the 
composer. 

& Amour pique par line Aheille, 
Imitation d'Anacreon, pour le 
Forte-Piano, compose par I. 
Mugnie. Pr. 6s. 
Although this publication is not 
absolutely recent, Ave are sure our 
readers will find no other fault with 
lis, than that of not having brought 
it sooner under their notice. The 
beautiful erotic fable in the 40th 
ode of Anacreon forms the ground- 
plot of this composition. Cupid, 
reposing on a bed of roses, is slung 
by a bee; in tears lie carries his 
complaints to his mother, and Ve- 
nus, pitying the boy's misfortune, 
observes to him, " If the sting of a 
little bee causes you such pain, what 
must those feel that are stung by 
your arrow ?" The author's per- 
formance, accordingly, is divided 
into the following several move- 
ments, descriptive of the different 
stages of the action: 
Andante in E b, 

Cupid reposes on a bed of roses, 
is stung. 
Allegretto in B b, 

Pain, agitation, lamentation. 
L.ar ghetto in G minor, 

He seeks Venus, finds her. 
Andante in G, 

Tells his grief, and entreats her 
assistance. 



Largo in C minor, 

Venus bewails his misfortune, 
and, in an 
Allegro in C major. 

Gives him the reproof above- 
mentioned. 
A composition of this kind, simi- 
lar to a ballet, afforded a fine scope 
for variety of expression, scientific 
modulation, and appro priate colour- 
ing. In every one of these aims, 
Mr. M. has fully satisfied our high- 
est expectation. The style of re- 
pose which pervades the 1st move- 
ment, is charming; and the sudden 
burst of the chord of the diminished 
seventh, expressive of the sting, 
highly characteristic. The restless- 
ness of the wounded god of love, 
his pain, and grief, are inimitably 
depicted. The same praise of cha- 
racteristic and happy expression is 
due to the remainder of the move- 
ments. But the last, the allegro, 
claims our special notice : it is an 
elaborate composition, full of spirit, 
and distinguished by a chaste com- 
bination of scientific ideas ; the bass 
passage of the 3d line, p. 10, is 
attended with striking effect ; and 
the succession of fine discords (p. 
11, /. 1), probably indicative of 
the mother's reproof, proclaim the 
author's harmonic knowledge. The 
conclusion, too, deserves our un- 
qualified commendation. 

We cannot dismiss this perform- 
ance without expressing a wish that 
the path so successfully trodden by 
Mr. M. will be frequented by other 
composers. By proposing to them- 
selves a certain subject to be repre- 
sented by the language of mere 
musical sounds, without the aid of 
words, they will have an opportu- 
nity of interesting the mind and 
reason, as well as the ear of the 



MUSICAL REVIEW. 



41 



pei former or hearer ; and, surely, II which does nof fill to their lot every 
as in pointing and sculpture, the j day, and that the oftcner they play 
pleasure is always heightened and ' if, the more beauties will open 
more refined, if, in addition to our themselves lo their view. 



senses, our judgment likewise comes 

in for its share. 



i\o. 51, which likewise bears the 

name of Slcibell, contains another 



Clcmenti and Company' s Collection \\ theme, called La Doiicmiauii . wilU 



of Rondos, Airs with Variations, 
and Military Pieces, for the l y i- 
ano' Forte, by Hie most esteemed 
Composers. No. 53. Pr. 5s. 
Ditto, Ditto. No. 54. Pr. 3s. 

No. h'3 of this collection presents 
ns with a " A Grand Fantasia with 
seven variations on a favourite air, 
by D. Steibelt." The author first 
•rives his air briefly in 1) major, 
then sallies into D minor for a con- 
siderable time, from whence he 
enters three sharps until he leads 



nine variations, preceded by a short 
introductory slow movement. Al- 
though, in point of subject as well 
as in the treatment of it, it appears 
to us to possess a less degree of 
interest than (he foregoing number, 
yet the difference is only compa- 
rative. " La lioheniienne" will by 
no means be found destitute of pre- 
tensions ;to the favour of the expe- 
rienced amateur. The diffeier.t 
variations are devised with judg- 
ment, and much out of the hack- 



his subject into a presto in triple ,' nied way. The minor of (lie third 



time, and concludes the first part 
of the work with a moderato. Se- 
ven variations next succeed, and 



possesses delicacy ; considerable sci- 
entific arrangement prevails in the 
fourth variation, as also in the sixth, 



are wound up in a coda. So much ! an adagio, which in some places 
for the exterior construction of this li borders on the capricious; and the 



performance; but to detail its in- 
trinsic merits, indeed its innumera- 
ble and incomparable excellencies, 
would be to give a catalogue raisonne 

of the contents of almost every staff; 
a task which the name of the cele- 
brated author renders, we think, 
unnecessary. Such music as this 
is a rata avis in terris. Its har- 
monic richness, skilful combination, 
infinite variety of elegant ideas 
linked in natural and mellow suc- 
cession, original and bold modula- 



conclusion is conducted with taste- 
fid propriety. 

Six Divertimentos for the Piano- 
J'orle, com posed, and respect ful- 
ly inscribed to Ike Miss Hamil- 
ton 's, by N. Kolfe. Pr. is. 
A work evidently intended for 
the practice of pupils of incipient 
proficiency; and the author's care 
to render it eminently fit for that 
object is apparent in every part. 
Each divertimento consists of' two 
movements, none of which ever 



tions, its uncommonly fine bass, in 'exceeds the compass of one page. 
short, its whole texture is so much The subjects throughout are modern 
above our praise, that we cannot' and pleasing ; whatever modulation 
but stake the credit of our veracity i: the brevity of the movement and 
in assuring such of our readers, as \\ the object of the work would admit, 
by their proficiency are capable ' is introduced with neatness; great 
of doing justice to this composition, '! attention appears to have been paid 
that they will derive a treat from it, ',. to adapt the passages to the fingers, 
No. XLIIL Vol. VIII. 1! G 



42 



MUSICAL REVIEW. 



nnd to give to the left-hand a due 
share of employment. With such 
advantages in its favour, the pre- 
sent publication claims the strongest 
recommendation on our part. There 
is nothing to defer the student of 
moderate ability, and the improve- 
ment of his executive powers will 
be equal to the entertainment which 
the agreeable and facile nature of 
the composition must afford him. 
La Colombe reperdue, an Air (?) 
for the Piano- Forte, with or 
without additional Keys, com- 
posed, and dedicated to Miss II- 
€. by J. Mugnie. Pr. Is. 6d. 
If it were necessary to prove the 
possibility of displaying excellence 
in a performance of a page or two, 
the present little work would fur- 
nish the best evidence. The title 
does not appear to us to be a blank 
letter, fished for at hazard, accord- 
ing to the practice of the day : we 
conceive, that the idea of the loss 
of a favourite dove, the consequent 
lamentations of the fair owner, her 
solicitations Tor the return of the 
bird, and the hitter's ungrateful joy 
at the recovery of long sought for 
liberty, and other concomitant ex- 
pressions, const it ute thegrouncl- work 
of this elegant trifle, if we may pre- 
sume to call it so merely on account 
of its diminutive bulk. The minor 
theme, its major imitation, the va- 
ried modulations, indicative of the 
complaints occasioned by the loss, 
the responsive high notes of the 
dove, and the delicate conclusion, 
are altogether replete with dramatic 
and picturesque expression, which 
can scarcely be misunderstood, and 
which leave a regret at the short 
duration of the piece. 
Sine Variations on a favourite Air 
for the Harp, composed, and 



dedicated to the Honourable T. 
W. Coventry, by G. Schu'iz, 
jun. Pr. 3s. 

As the production, perhaps even 
the first essay, of a juvenile com- 
poser, these variations are certainly 
deserving of such notice as may tend 
fo encourage future efforts. The 
theme isa well known dance, called, 
we believe, Lord Cat heart's Reel, 
originally taken from a rondo of 
Pleyel's, and the different variations 
•partake of the usual method of di» 
versification of the subject ; the 
passages are connected together 
with ease, and well suited for the 
instrument. The bass, with the. 
exception of var. 2, where it goes 
through thetheme, and var. 3, where 
it acts responsively, is rather plain ; 
a little more colouring would have 
infused greater interest into the 
performance. 

The Maid of Toro, a Song sung 
by Mr. Harrison at the Vocal 
Concerts, the Words by Walter 
Scott, Esq. composed, and in- 
scribed to Miss Elizabeth Jones, 
by Win. Horsley, Mus. Bac. 
Oxon. Pr. 2s. 

Mr. H. has been very successful 
in devising for the pathetic text of 
this song a melody replete with 
affecting expression, and varied by 
several turns conspicuous for their 
delicacy and feeling. The accom- 
paniment is simple, but perfectly 
adequate to support the voice with 
effect, as it exhibits the progress of 
the interesting and by no means 
common- place harmony in an ap- 
propriate and skilful manner. The 
whole of the three stanzas are in 
score, not so much on account of 
any essential variation in the me- 
lody, as to express the varied im- 




EVEIOTTG- IDWE S S 




«]§S 



. 



.FASHIONS FOR LAMMS. 



port of the text by a change in the 
accompaniments. Accordingly we 
find the distant roar of the battle 
suitably and elegantly typified in 
the piano-forte part of the second 
verse, and in several other instances 
an apposite variation in the accom- 
paniment heightens the interest of 
the melody; an idea which has our 
full commendation, and deserves to 
be more frequently put in practice. 
The Deserter's Meditations $ a fa- 
pourite Irish Air, arranged as a 
Rondo for the Piano- Forte, and 
respectfully inscribed to the Mis- 
ses Harrison, by Samuel Wes- 
ley. Pi. Is. bd. 
In this small publication we meet 
with ample traces of the mastery of 
its author. It is not a rondo patched 
up out of a few common-place turns 
and chords, just to be played once 



and then to be consigned to the heap 

; of modern musical rubbish. Mr. V/. 

has taken up a common subject, 

! and treated it in a manner which 
| becomes an adept in the science of 
j harmonics. The theme makes its 
: appearance in a variety of protean 
I shapes and keys, constantly diver- 
I sifted by the hand of sterling art. 
' We are at one lime entertained with 
j neatly fugued contrivances, at ano- 
ther some masterly counterpoint 
claims our attention. Every bar 
partakes of the spirit of the subject, 
while it displays the skill of the 
composer. To ili.' true connoisseur 
this rondo will afford a high treat; 
and io such only we wish to recom- 
mend it, as it would be thrown 
away upon an ear vitiated by the 
ephemeral sing-song productions of 
the day. 



FASHIONS FOR LADIES. 



PLATE '1. — EVENING DRESS. 

An embroidered crape round robe, 
decorated at the feet with a deep 
Vandyke fringe ; short melon sieeve; 
bosom and back to correspond. 
White or blossom satin under-dress. 
Hair a dishevelled crop, ornament- 
ed with a small cluster of the Chi- 
nese rose on each side, and con- J 
fined with a comb of pearl at the 
back of the head. Necklace, ear- 
rings, and bracelets, of pearl and 
wrought gold. Grecian scarf of 
lilac silk, with embroidered varie- 
gated ends. Slippers of white sa- 
tin, and gloves of French kid. Fan 
of imperial crape and ivory, em- 
bellished with gold antique devices. 

PLATE 5. — PROMENADE DRESS. 

A round high robe of fine cam- 



bric or jaconot m'tislin, with wag- 
goner's sleeve, and bighj full-ga- 
thered collar. A cottage vest, of 
light green or lemon-coloured sars- 
tiet, laced in trout of the bosom 
with silk cord, and trimmed round 
with broad thread lace ; the vest 
left unconfined at the bottom of the 
waist. A Highland helmet, com- 
posed of the same material, as the 
vest, with long square veil of white 
lace. A rosary and cross of (he 
coquilla nut*. Half-boots of pale 
green kid. Parasol of the same 
colour, with deep white silk awn> 
inir. Gloves of buff-coloured kid. 



* For an account of thi.s curious fruit 
sec Belinda's Letter in this number. 

G 2 



44 



TWENTY-FOURTH LETTER FROM A YOUNG LADY IN 
LONDON TO HER SISTER IN THE COUNTRY. 



Another short fortnight, my 
dear Constance, and we leave this 
gay scene for the sea-coast, or the 
rural retirement of our hostess's 
native villa. I hope my kind stars 
will prevail in favour of the former ; 
for grdtios, groves, majestic oaks, 
waving foliage, the feathered choir, 
with other varied and stupid etce- 
teras, are vastly disagreeable to 
me, who dearly love the society of 
objects more animated, and more 
in unison with the sense and discern- 
ment of rational, humanized, and 
elegant minds. You cannot think, 
my love, how easy we are in this 
dear fashionable place ; you recol- 
lect how we bridled up with virtuous 

indignation, when Squire B 

(having made too free with your 
father's Madeira at the county elec- 
tion) placed each of his rude arms 



any thing. Nothing is considered 
so unfashionable as natural resent- 
ment of an indignity offered you. 
So that when you are treated ill, or 
deceived by your lover or friend, 
the most genteel method, by far, 
is to set your wits to work, and 
deceive them roundly in return. I 
will give some further information 
on this modern system in my fu- 
ture letters ; time presses at present, 
and I must not suffer this packet 
to be closed without conveying you 
its accustomed intelligence. 

Let me hasten, then, to tell you, 
that so as you preserve the general 
style of fashion, such as the waist a 
moderate length, long sleeves, and 
covered throat, in the morning — 
half-boots, spencers, or three quar- 
tered pelisses ; and in the evening, 
short sleeves, uncovered bosom, and 



round each of our waists. You j the hair a la Greque, you may 
rose with offended majesty, to the ; adorn yourself as you please, with- 



opposite side of the drawing-room, 
while I (quite as much incensed, 
though differently actuated) return- 
ed him a sudden and smart box on 
the ear. What would you say 
could you see how easy these little 
familiarities are received here ! Co- 
lonel Mordant politely flatters any 
lady he happens to sit next at table, 
not only by occasionally placing his 
arm openly round her waist, but 
he not unfrequently places his mar- 
tial knee in contact with hers, or 
makes his foot give the sensitive 
touch to her slipper, or his spur 
gallantly entangle itself in the t ruin 
of her robe, and you are thought 
vastly vulgar to take offence at such 
trifles. Indeed, in our world, we 
are never allowed to be offended at 



out the imputation of singularity, 
so great is the variety in which the 
present race of fashionables indulge. 
The Grecian scarf, the military 
spencer, the French pelerine, are 
each in estimation at their season, 
for the carriage or walking-dress. 
Flemish bonnets in satin or chip, 
the Highland helmet, Spanish hats, 
and small cottage bonnets (the for- 
mer with feathers, the latter placed 
at the back of the head, with a 
small French cap of lace beneath, 
and a flower on one side, with a 
large square white veil), are appro- 
priately united to this style of deco- 
ration. The morning robe is inva- 
riably made high in the neck, with 
long sleeves, and still ornamented 
with appliqucdlace or needle-work, 



RETROSPECT OF POLITICS. 



45 



in various fanciful directions. The ! 
coloured robe is now entirely con- \ 
fined to the evening or full dress, j 
and is formed either as French 
frocks, Spanish tunics, or the flow- 
ing Turkish robe ; in each, white 
satin or sarsnet composes the under- j 
dress. The bosoms are cut very 
low, and the shoulders and back 
rather unbecomingly exposed. The 
sleeve is here worn short, and rather 
full ; in the melon, bishop, rucked, 
or simple frock form, appliqucd 
•with lace and white satin. The 
train still continues short, except 
in court dress; and many wear the 
evening dress a walking length. 
The hair k is still confined iu the 
Grecian style, though much more 
divided in front than formerly, so 
that the full curls are seen on each 
side, and many allow the large 
ringlet to fall on one side of the 
neck, somewhat in the style of 
King Charles's beauties. All flowers 
are now placed either at the back 
of the head, continuing round to 
the left side, where they termi- 
nate in a small cluster, or in small 
bunches on each side of the temple, 
united by a slender wreath of leaves. 
Diamonds, pearls, and emeralds, 
with other precious gems, are ever 
consistent in full dress, as is also 
the (lately introduced) filigree neck- 
lace of gold, resembling the Spa- 
nish and Maltese button worn on 



the cloth and velvet pelisse a few 
months back. With the morning 
and domestic costume are now worn 
rosaries, crosses, and bracelets, 
composed of the newly-imparted 
Coquilla Nut. As the general 
account of this fruit may not possi- 
bly reach you, 1 will just inform 
you, that this nut is of the same 
species as the cocoa-nut, but with- 
out milk ; is much smaller, and 
quite different in colour. It is con- 
jectured to be derived from the 
Portuguese possessions in Africa. 
It is in a great measure unknown in 
this country, which may be ac- 
counted for, from the circumstance 
of its being near sixty years since 
the Custom-IIouse entries mention 
an importation of it. It is of a 
most pleasing appearance, being of 
a mottled red brown, and of a high- 
ly polished surface. It is not only 
formed in rosaries, neck, and wrist 
ornaments, but in useful and elegant 
appendages for ladies' writing, 
work, and dressing-tables. With 
the cambric morning dress, neck- 
laces or rosaries, and bracelets of 
this curious fruit, afford a neat and 
appropriate contrast. 

Adieu ! dear, and ever dear sis- 
ter! In a few weeks expect again 
to hear from your faithful and affec- 
tionate 

IJclinda. 



RETROSPECT OF POLITICS. 

The languor of the war in Spain Spanish pf.n insi:i,a. 

and thestateof momentous suspense i: Except the brilliant exploit of 
in which the affairs of the North Gen. Sir Rowland 1 1 i i 1 upon the 
are still involved, will enable us t<» | bridge of Alnuin/, which we shall 
comprise the few important occur- ; presently lay before our readers, the 
rences of the past month within a Angio-Portuguese forces have re- 
shorter span than usual. " mained completely inactive during 



46 



RETROSPECT OF POLITICS. 



the period above alluded to. The 
3d, -4th, 5th, and light divisions are 
in the north with Lord Wellington, 
whose head-quarters have not been 
removed irom the well-known Fu- 
ente Guinaldo ; and the 1st, 2d. 
6ih, and 7(h divisions are stationed 
on the south of the Tagus, under 
the command of Sir Rowland Hill. 
That general, pursuant to orders 
from Lord Wellington, broke up 
from Almendralego on the 12th of 
May, with a part of the 2d division 
and the lSih light dragoons. He 
reached Aim araz, so as to assault the 
formidable works by which the 
bridge was defended, on the morn- 
ing of the 19th. Two strong forjts 
covered the approach to the bridge 
upon each side or the river. They 
•were well garrisoned and provided 
with eighteen pieces of cannon. 
The difficulties of the ground pre- 
vented General Hill from bringing 
up his artillery, and he was obliged 
to employ a great part of his corps 
in watching and threatening the 
castle of Mirabete. The service of 
cscalading Fort Napoleon fell to 
the 50th regiment and part of the 
71st, led by Major-Gen. Howard. 
The French at first opposed a 
vigorous resistance; but the impe- 
tuous gallantry of our troops carried 
every thing before them. The 
enemy were driven by the bayonet 
over the bridge ; many were drown- 
ed in the Tagus ; their panic was so 
great, that they abandoned Fort 
Kagusa on the right bank without 
resistance, and fled towards Naval 
Moral. The hostile loss in killed 
and wounded was very great, and 
the governor, 16 officers, and 240 
men were made prisoners ; one 
standard and the whole of their 
ordnance was taken, together with 



great quantities of provisions, amu- 
nition, and other stores, as also a 
large and complete pontoon-esta- 
blishment. Our own loss was, 1 
officer and 31 men killed; 1 captain, 
10 subalterns, 10 Serjeants, and 118 
British, as also 1 ensign and 3 pri- 
vates of the Portuguese wounded. 
Sir II. Hill immediately caused the 
fortifications, the bridge, work- 
shops, and magazines to be destroy- 
ed ; and having completed this ser- 
vice, he left Almaraz the next day, 
and returned, by easy marches, to 
the Guadiana. 

To us the most welcome part of 
tlii> intelligence is the panic of the 
enemy. It is not the first time they 
have, latterly, felt this sensation 
before unknown to them. Our 
army begins to be as much dreaded 
by them as our navy has long been. 
But speaking of the event itself, the 
loss of the important station of Al- 
maraz will be severely felt by the 
enemy, inasmuch as it wiii cause a 
great interruption in the cornmuni- 
cation of the army under Marmont, 
with that of the corps in the south 
commanded by Soult and other sub- 
ordinate French generals ; a circum- 
stance of great consequence in the 
event of the renewal of active ope- 
rations on our part. How soon such 
a renewal will be in the power of 
Lord Wellington, must depend 
upon the reinforcements he shall 
receive from England. The French 
armies, reduced as they are in num- 
bers, will not provoke any attack; 
their chiefs throughout the Penin- 
sula act evidently at the present 
moment upon a system of passive 
defence. To maintain the ground 
they possess, until Bonaparte has 
settled matters in Poland, so as to 
enable him to inundate Spain onc« 



in-:ruospr.cT or politics. 



47 



more with formidably superior num- 

bei i, must now be the utmost am- 
l)i(ion of French policy, as much as 
if ought to !>e an urgent motive loi- 
ns to strain the last ihtvc to profit 
of the favourable aspect of affairs in 
Spain. 

Of Suchet we hear not a word — 
nothing whatever seems to he doing 
in the east of Spain. From the 
south we sliall always have some- 
thing to report, as long as that ac- 
tive chief, General Ballasteros, re- 
mains in Ih '.t quarter. On the I lth 
of April lie surprized and routed a 
column under General l\ey, near 
A r roll a ; and on Hie 93d, he attack- 
ed and defeated a French corps of 
2500 men, under Colonel Schweitzer, 
sustaining, however, a loss of 226 
men killed and wounded. JJut a 
reserve under General Soull advanc- 
ing upon the Spaniards, they were 
compelled, without reaping the 
fruits of their victory, to draw back 
on their former stations. 

Once more have the French over- 
run (he province of Asturia ; over- 
run, without opposition, and in 
small numbers, a country which 
nature has rendered almost impreg- 
nable. On the 17th they entered 
Oviedo, and immediately proceeded 
to Gijon, which they likewise oc- 
cupy again. We have often ex- 
pressed our regret and wonder at 
seeing the Gallicians and Asturians, 
whose courage had almost become 
proverbial, guilty of the most dis- 
graceful inactivity and apathy in 
their country's cause. Surely there 
is something rotten, more than meets 
the eye, in the conduct of their 
councils. 



SPANISH COLONIES. 

A most terrible convulsion of na- 



ture has spread such devastation 
ovcrtheapostateso called republic of 
Venezuela, thai the rebellious guilt 
of its inhabitants is almost forgeifrn 
at the reflection of the dreadful ca- 
lamity inflicted upon them. An 
earthquake, as destructive as any 
history has upon record, in the 
space of about three minutes, laid 
waste a great (rack of country bor- 
dering on the Caribbean Sea. About 
seven minutes past four in (he after- 
noon of the 26th March, the shock 
was felt in the city of Carraccas, 
just when a great part of the inha- 
bitants were assembled indifferent 
churches. In two minutes one quar- 
ter of the town was a heap of rub- 
bish, tin; rest rendered uninhabit- 
able, and upwards of 5000 persons 
were miserably buried in the ruins. 
The extent of the desolation is not 
yet precisely stated ; but, as far as 
we are informed, the city of Lagui- 
ra shared a similar fate ; V ittoria is 
entirely demolished ; Leon, Puerto- 
CavaHo, and many other towns 
have suffered greatly. Hocks were 
levelled to the ground, large tracks 
of land sunk, and bodies of water 
forced up into their place. The 
terrified inhabitants, it is stated, 
consider (his severe misfortune as a 
visitation of Heaven, in punish- 
ment of their rebellious proceedings, 
which, if report be true, they so 
sincerely repent, that the approach 
of the smallest force, under the au- 
thority of the mother country, 
would be sufficient to overawe the 
few refractory spirits still swaying 
the insurgent administration, and 
effect a counter-revolution in favour 
of the lawful government. 

Advices from Buenos Ayres fur- 
nish great apprehension of the re- 
newal of the civil Mar in that quar- 






43 



RETROSPECT OF POLITICS. 



lcr. The protracted stay of the 
Portuguese troops on the banks of 
La Plata, lias given great jealousy 
to the turbulent spirits at Buenos 
Ayres; an action is even said to 
have taken place between the troops 
of both nations ; and it is added, 
that the blockade of the town has 
been resumed by a squadron sent 
from Monte Video. 

In Mexico, likewise, the flame of 
civil war is not yet extinguished. 
The insurgent chief Morelos is be- 
sieged in the town of Quatla by 
General Calleja; but in the interior 
of the kingdom tranquillity is stat- 
ed to prevail. A dangerous con- 
spiracy has been timely discovered 
at Vera Crux ; its object was to 
seize the city, and raise the stand- 
ard of rebellion. More than 30 in- 
dividuals, with their chief, were ap- 
prehended, and await their fate. 

NORTH OF EUROPE. 

Contrary to our expectations, no 
hostile event has as yet taken place 
between the armies of Russia and 
France, whom both their sovereigns 
have now joined. Bonaparte, with 
his consort, arrived at Dresden on 
the 16th of May, and Alexander at 
Wilna about a fortnight before. 
The former's stay at Dresden was 
distinguished by the meeting of se- 
veral continental sovereigns, more 
or less under the rod of Bonaparte. 
The Emperor of Austria was treat- 
ed with a sight of his daughter, 
the devoted wife of his enemy, 
•whose cunning no doubt was direct- 
ed to effect by that means the im- 
portant object of making Francis 
an ally, or at least a passive specta- 
tor in the approaching war. After 
enjoying, in common with many of 
these assembled vassal sovereigns 
and several branches of the illustri- 



ous house of Napoleon, operas, 
balls, grand hunting parties, and 
other fetes, Bonaparte pursued his 
journey to the Vistula, and arrived 
on the 2d of June at Thorn, where 
our last accounts lmve left him. 
As we have not any thing further to 
add, to which we could pledge his- 
toric authenticity, we will not de- 
tain our readers with the contradic- 
tory speculations of continental po- 
liticians, except mentioning the 
death (at Wilna) of Count Roman- 
zoff, the Russian minister. As this 
statesman is supposed to have con- 
stantly supported a system of amity 
with France, his demise is not likely 
to produce any unfavourable change 
in the present councils of Russia. 
From Sweden we have nothing ma- 
terial to add to our statement of last 
month. 

NAVAL INTELLIGENCE. 

After the many and great naval 
victories, by which we have dis- 
posed of the maritime power of 
France, as it were wholesale, the 
active valour of our navy must needs 
now content itself with a few occa- 
sional pickings of odds and ends, 
that happen to fall in its way. For, 
animated by a deadly spite against 
our commerce, the ruler of France 
at times is still foolhardy enough to 
send out some of the few ships he 
has left, regardless of their fate, so 
they can but take a few of our mer- 
chant-vessels scattered in all direc- 
tions over the aqueous globe. A 
predatory squadron of this descrip- 
tion, consisting of the Ariadne and 
Andromache frigates, and the Ma- 
meluke brig, had in this manner 
sneaked out of the Loire in January 
last. During the space of four 
months, in which they cruised with 
surprising impunity over the greater 



RETROSPECT OF POLITICS, 



49 



part of the Athntic, as far as the 
West Indies, they had taken near 
40 English, Spanish, Portuguese, 
and American vessels, till, loaded 
with a most valuable booty, they 
steered homewards, and reached (he 
very entrance of the port of L'Ori- 
ent on the 23(1 May. Another quar- 
ter of an hour and they had been safe 
in port. But the Northumberland 
(74), Captain Hotham, accompa- 
nied by the Growler gun-brig, hav- 
ing just in right time observed their 
approach, although too late to cut 
them off, did what but a British 
seaman would have done. With the 
most imminent danger of ground- 
ing, and in defiance of the batteries 
on shore, Capt. Hotham ran his ship 
into the very mouth of the canal 
which the enemy's ships had to pass, 
with no more than 25 t'ect water. 
The French squadron, no longer 
able to retrace its steps, made a de- 
sperate effort to pass the narrow and 
shallow strait between our ship and 
the land, under a vigorous fire on 
both sides. In this hopeless attempt 
they met the fate prepared for them. 
All three grounded successively, 
and pierced and set on fire by our 
shot, one blew up after another, 
within twenty-four hours. The 
greatest part of the crews, it is 
hoped, saved themselves on shore. 
We had four men killed, and 28 
wounded, chiefly through the fire 
of the batteries. At this price, the 
loss of a hand to ^et a thumb-nail, 
tvc have no reason to regret the 
previous capture of a few of our 
merchantmen. 

DOMESTIC INTELLIGENCE. 

As, constitutionally speaking, the 
ministers of a British sovereign are 
the responsive executive govern- 
ment of the country, we arc war- 

No. XLI1I. Vol. VIII. 



ranted in designating the period of 
four weeks, which elapsed between 
the horrid assassination of Mr. Per- 
ceval and the final appointment of 
a new administration, as an inter- 
regnum unparalleled in the annals 
of Great Britain. It does not fall 
within our plan to give even an ab- 
stract of the intricate, delicate, and 
multiform negociations exhibited in 
endless letters, notes, memoran- 
dums, and minutes, which were 
ineffectually exchanged during that 
interval between the leading public 
characters of the country, with a 
view to compound a ministry to di- 
rect the affairs of the kingdom. A 
volume of no common size would, 
scarcely hold the history and docu- 
ments of that extraordinary nego- 
ciation. — Tanlas molts erat Roma* 
nam vondete gentem ! ! Shortly after 
Mr. Perceval's death, His Royal 
Highness the Prince Regent tix"d 
upon Lord Liverpool to fill the 
office of First Lord of the Treasury ; 
and upon the Bight Honourable 
Nicholas Vansittart to hold that of 
Chancellor of the Exchequer ; and 
overtures were made to the Marquis 
of Wellesley and Mr. Canning to 
join the cabinet. The failure of 
these is to be ascribed to a differ- 
ence in opinion upon two great po- 
litical points ; the existing admini- 
stration refusing to pledge them- 
selves to a more vigorous pursuit 
of the war in the Peninsula, and to 
make any concession in favour of 
the Catholics. Before this nego- 
ciation was broken off, the House 
of Commons, at the motion of Mr. 
Saiarl Wortley, by a majority of 
two, voted, on the 21st of May, 
an address to be presented to the 
Regent, praying him "to take such 
; measures as would tend to forming 
11 



50 



RETROSPECT OF POLITICS. 



a strong, vigorous, and efficient 
administration." This resolution, 
and His Royal Highnesses answer, 
— " I shall take into my serious 
and immediate consideration the 
resolution now laid before me by 
order of the House of Commons," — 
induced Lord Liverpool and the I 
existing cabinet to resign their re- 
spective offices, the functions of 
which they however continued ad 
interim until the arrangements for 
a ministry should be finally settled. 
The task of forming an administra- 
tion was now conferred by the 
Regent upon Marquis Wellesley. 
His overtures to the existing tempo- 
rary ministry were ineffectual, both 
on account of the difference of opi- 
nion already stated, and also on 
grounds of personal objections, or, 
as the noble marquis expressed him- 
self, "dreadful animosities." Equal- 
ly abortive were his proposals to 
Lords Grenville and Grey, not so 
much in consequence of any deci- 
sive variance on political matters, 
as on a belief entertained by these 
statesmen, that the share which they 
were to have in the cabinet, was 
not commensurate with their charac- 
ter and weight as the leading men 
of a great party. Thus foiled, 
Marquis Wellesley resigned his 
commission into the hands of the 
Prince Regent, who, upon this, 
selected Lord Moira as the con- 
ductor of the next operations to- 
wards forming a cabinet. His lord- 
ship accordingly made overtures to 
the three parties that had before 
been applied to; but on the one 
hand the disinclination to concede 
any thing to the Irish Catholics, 
and on the other, a condition pro- 
posed by Lords Grenville and Grey, 
that the Prince's household should, 



on their accession to administration, 
be partially, at least, dismissed, 
equally defeated Lord Moira's ef- 
forts. Thus disappointed in ail his 
endeavours to unite the principal 
men of the different parties, the 
Prince Regent finally confirmed the 
original appointments of the cabinet, 
which is now composed of the fol- 
lowing members : 
Lord Liverpool, First Lord of the 

Treasury. 
Lord Bathurst, Secretary of State 

for War and Colonies. 
Lord Castlereagh, ditto for the 

Foreign Department. 
LordSiDMouTii, ditto for the Home 

Department. 
Earl of Buckinghamshire, Pre- 
sident of the Board of Controul. 
Mr. Vansittart, Chancellor of 

the Exchequer. 
Lord Eldon, Lord Chancellor. 
Lord Melville, First Lord of 

the Admiralty. 
Earl of Westmoreland, Lord 

Frivy Seal. 
Lord Mulgrave, Master of the 

Ordnance. 
Lord Harrowbv, President of 

the Council. 

The administration has already 
actively entered upon the exercise 
of its duties. A question, decisive 
of its parliamentary strength, was 
carried by a majority of 125. The 
loan for the service of the ensiling 
year (^22,500,000) has been nego- 
ciated by the Chancellor of the 
Exchequer, and the Budget of 
Ways and Means laid before par- 
liament. The new taxes it contains 
are far less burthensome than the 
urgent wants of the country might 
have led <o expect. 

A most important change in (he 
maritime and commercial policy of 



RETROSPECT OF POLITICS. 



tliis country is on the eye of fakinsr 
place. The committee of the llous^ 
of Commons had scarcely concluded 
the examination of a great mass of 
evidence, as lo the effect produced 
upon the commerce of the kingdom 
by the Orders in Council issued in 
1807 and 180°, when Mr. Brougham 
brought on his motion for an ad- 
dress to the Regent, praying the re- 
peal of these orders. His luminous 
speech on that subject seemed to 
make so strong an impression on 
the House, that ministers did not 
pressa division, and Mr, Brougham 
withdrew his motion, on Lord Cas- 
tlereagh's pledging himself to at 
least a suspension of the Orders in 
Council. The document, declara- 
tory of that change of system, has 
not yet been issued ; but ministers 
have declared, that so much of the 
orders as related to America would 
be rescinded, on her withdrawing 
her hostile and restrictive acts a- 
gainst England, restoring the free- 
dom of trade between both coun- 
tries, and admitting British ships 
of war into her waters and ports as 
those of friendly nations. 



The special commission appointed 
for the trial of the rioters in the 
county of Chester, was opened at 
Chester on the 24th May. A con-? 
siderable number of the deluded 
offenders have been since tried, con- 
victed, and passed sentence upon; 
and several have already expiated 
their crime with their lives. Never- 
theless, although the spirit of open 
defiance to the laws of society has 
much subsided, clandestine noctur- 



nal meetings have become -"and 
more frequent and alarming he 
object of these is almost exclusi. 
to obtain fire-arms, and (lie inform- 
ation obtained by the Luddites, as 
they arc called, of the persons and 
places where to seek tor arms, is 
generally so exact, that their depre- . 
dations are seldom unattended with 
success. It is apparently not from 
distress that their outrages proceed, 
as (hose who have been taken were 
not unprovided with money ; their 
motives must besought for in a wan- 
ton spirit of insubordination, and a ; 
direct hostility to all the laws of so- 
cial order. 



On Monday (8th June), at three 
o'clock in the morning, the eastern 
rope-house in Plymouth Dock-yard 
was discovered to be On fire, nearly, 
in the center of the building, which] 
is about J 400 feet long. The flames 
raged and spread with incredible 
fury till seven o'clock in the morn- 
ing, By cutting off as much as 
possible at each extremity, about 
100 feet of the premises were saved. 
The extensive machinery for ropes 
and cables was almost totally de-. 
stroyed ; but of stores the loss is 
stated to be less considerable, as few- 
happened to be in the building. 
The extent of the damage is. not 
valued at less than .£30,000 ; and 
some suspicious circumstances at- 
tending the breaking out of the fire 
induced government to send down 
the. solicitor of the navy, accompa- 
nied by a police officer, in order to 
take depositions, and ascertain the 
cause of the conflagration. 



II 2 



52 



Plate 3.— FASHIONABLE FURNITURE. 



The French curtain represented 
in our engraving, lias a simple, ele- 
gant drapery suspended on brass 
rosettes, ornamented with line and 
tassels. It is suited either for a 
library or morning room, in the 



cottage style ; and may be made, to 
fancy, of any colour or kind of 
materials, suitable to the style and 
fitting up of the room, with maho- 
gany dwarf book-cases, &c. &c. 
en suite. 



MEDICAL REPORT. 



An account of the practice of a 
physician from the 15th of May to 
the 15th of June, 1812. 

Acute Diseases. — Catarrh, 1 — 
Inflammatory sore-throat, 1 . . .Acute 
rheumatism, 2. . Erysi pelas, 1 .. Cho- 
lera, 2.. .Hooping-cough, 2. ..Mea- 
sles, 1... Diseases of infants, 5. 

Chronic Diseases. — Cough and 
dyspnoea, 25. .Pulmonary consump- 
tion, 4. ..Marasmus, 1.. .Scrofula, 2 
...Asthenia, 17... Hypochondriasis, 
1... Chronic rheumatism, 6... I Icad- 
ach, 4. ..Vertigo, 2. ..Lumbago, 1 
...Palsy, 2... Dyspepsia, 3... Bili- 
ous vomiting, l...IIoematemesis, 1 
...Calculus, 1... Gravel, 2...Gas- 
trodynia, 2... Jaundice, 1.. Dropsy, 
3.. Worms, 5..Femalecomplaints, 6. 

We have now entered upon the 
most healthy season of the year, 
when Nature displays her budding 
treasures, and, with alluring smiles, 
invites us to partake of enjoyments 
that never satiate — of enjoyments 
that renovate health, inspire cheer- 
fulness, and render the frame ro- 
bust. Few people sufficiently ap- 
preciate the value of fresh air, or 
estimate the beneficial consequences 
of rural excursions, at a time when 
the whole atmosphere is impregnat- 
ed with most grateful odours and sjj| 
lubi ioub essences. W litre a patient 



has long suffered from a lingering 
disease, not depending upon causes 
which may be removed by medicine, 
and when no progress towards 
amendment is evident, a judicious 
physician will always propose a 
change of air, which frequently 
operates like a charm, and speedily 
restores the desponding sufferer to 
hope and life. 

This fact is strongly exemplified 
in the hooping-cough. We see 
a child languishing for weeks, 
coughing with a violence which 
threatens destruction, and resisting 
all attempts at relief, we advise it 
to be removed to a different situa- 
tion, and we are shortly informed of 
the almost immediate relief which 
followed. Again, we witness the 
happy effects of this universal agent 
in restoring the debility consequent 
on acute diseases, as well as in seve- 
ral chronic affections. Hence many 
persons have supposed that con- 
sumption might be cured by the 
patient returning to his native air, 
even when in a very advanced stage 
of the disorder. This, however, is 
rarely the case. Individuals often 
are terrified into a belief that they 
are consumptive, when they are 
merely labouring under the debili- 
tating influence and depressing 



PATTERNS OF BRITISH MANUFACTURE. 



health, with the prospect of attain- 
ing a green old age, should, when- 
ever occasion allows, emerge from 



power of an artificial atmosphere, [ 

and a cheerless occupation ; restore j 

them for a while to the freshness of 

the country, and the animating I their narrow boundaries, and range 

scenes of domestic life, and they abroad through the wilds as wejl as 

soon become new men. Whatever the gardens of Nature. 

maybe said or thought, the Lull a- , , 

. V i ' In these green dnvs 

bitants of a great city are merely Reviving Sickneaa lift- her languor, head, 

prisoners; and those who wish to Life flows afresh, and youmr-ey'd ikdth exalt* 

pass their days in happiness and in j The whole creation round" 



f j m ^ yw. n,afi|ff a«| 



AGRICULTURAL REPORT. 



The favourable weather through 
the whole of the last two months 
has brought forth a burst of vege- 
table luxuriance, promising a more 
fruitful production than we are ac- 
customed to anticipate in what is 
called in this climate an average 
year. 

The wheat crop has thrown out 
a large ear, which has blossomed 
kindly, and the late growing show- 
ers have supplied the earth with 
a sufficient portion of moisture to 
bring the corn to the utmost degree 
of maturity. The only effect to 
prevent a full crop, is the great 
abundance of straw forced up by 
the late crowing 1 weather. 

Barleys area promising crop up- 
on all soils, but will require dry 
weather to prevent their being 
thrown down. 

Oats have belled kindly, and pro- 
mise a full crop. 



Beans, peas, and all the legumi- 
nous tribe have blossomed well, and 
are remarkably free from the fly. 

The hay crop is most abundant, 
both on the up and low-lands. The 
late showery weather has somewhat 
impeded the getting it in up ui the 
early mown lands, without doing 
much injury, except the delay. 
From the same cause the turnip fal- 
lows are in a backward, unclean 
state upon tenacious loams. 

The tare, clover, and all the 
soiling crops have been most abund- 
ant. 

If the weather continues favour- 
able, the fruit crop, of every de- 
scription, promises to be the most 
abundant. 

The early potatoes, with every 
species of the spring brassiea tribe, 
arc in the most thriving state, and 
promise great relief till the harvest 
is secured. 



ALLEGORICAL WOOD-CUT, WITH PATTERNS OF BRITISH 

MANUFACTURE. 

No. 1. A Pomona green figured corations and trimming- fortius ar- 
ticle arc, ball or feathered fringe, 
j Chiucse floss trimming, lo coire- 



sarsnet, calculated for spencers, pe- 
lisses, and evening robes. The de- 




P3 

I 



- 



P 

> 

s 

- 



ea 



LONDON FJEMALK PKN1TKST1AKY, "J^^TO^lLIE. 




DiliI 

,LI».V»ON KKMAJJB FBNITKXTIAJtt*. 

is ii? i 

IJssr 



W i IB B B, B. 

'ORTXD BYTOLTNTARY COXTRIBUTIONS 



Tin- i.jiuuilrr 




Tin purBent 1I« 



Tlie wing- uow <i<ii U i- 



#«? tu/c/tt/ff/ .j/e/r ■ Out/f/e'nA 




LJ.J-J. ■LjIJ^ 



l-i.it of the ...t.-.,.l.,l Quadrwgl* which with the boot Building 
■rill gradually ,,„!,„, tli. Ground. 



POHTJSD livTOLI'.VTAJlV (' VT.KIMT r riO>-.S ., 



poetry. 



5p 



Catch my full eyes, fond fancy pleas'd 
shall paint 

Thy vallies douhly fertile, doubly bright 

Thy hills : then shall th' accordant Muse 
exult 

With higher rapture, and with strength- 
en^ u ing 

Explore a loftier flight — thy praise her 
theme. 

Meanwhile, ye torrid heav'ns, not un- 
dismay'd, 
Nor with undazzlcd sight, the scene un- 

trod, 
I seek your burning confines ; where 

sublime 
Yon wond'rous mountains rise, whose 

shaggy sides 
Invests th' ethereal azure, and whose 

brows 
Th' eternal vapour shrouds ! Great na- 
ture there 
Reigns in dread majesty and unshorn 1 

strength. 
Ye hoary piles, ye heav'n-aspiring cliffs! 
Say, did th' Almighty Father bid uprear 
Your many-tower'd heights, what time 

his voice 
Creative first inform'd th' unactive mass ? 
Or, laid the Sov'reign Architect alone 
Your firm foundations in th' unfathom'd 

waves, 
And saw your lofty peaks emerging rise 
Slow and progressive ? Ages thus (if thus 
Th' Eternal plann'd) have roll'd away, 

nor seen 
Your mighty infancy ; and still perhaps 
Shall long revolving ages roll, ere stops 
Your giant growth ! Oft* midst your 

secret shades 
(Conflicting thunders echoing deep below) 
Musing I wander, and admiring trace 
Old ocean's abdicated empire there. 
I see, in wond'rous strata, deep and vast, 
Extraneous forms, once subjects of the 

main, 
The branching coral, and the pearly shell, 
Left by the refluent waters, as the earth 
From chaos rose; or when th' uplifted 
sursre 



The sons of men impenitent ! Some deem 
The mountains then, proud Teneriffe's 

peak, 
Atlas, and mightier Andes, first display'd 
Their uncouth summits--fix'd in awful sign 
Of wrath divine awak'd ! that many a 

realm — 
Seat of proud empire since — was but a 

wreck 
Of the crush'd world, and ev'n th' At- 
lantic isles 
But splendid ruins; the dispers'd remaini 
Of some fair continent, wide-spreading 

once 
From Apalachia's hills to Paria's gulph — 
The same, perchance, of which Egyptu*' 

lore 
To godlike Solon told. But pitying 

Heav'n, 
Still merciful in anger, mark'd and spar'd 
The scatter'd fragments; o'er them gra- 
cious threw 
The robe of radiant beauty, and ordain'd 
Sweet plenty crown their vales, and 
health their shores. 

Ye happy islands, in the wond'rous 

change 

Rejoice ! nor envy Mexico'sproud realms, 

Nor rich Potosi's ore, sad source of crime* 

And seas of guiltless blood ! Th' un- 

healthful mine 
Useless and barren, 'till exchanged its 

dross 
For nobler products. Thousands, too, 

condemn'd 
(Hard fate!) t'explore the latent metals, 

die 
Inglorious. Ev'n the ambient air is 

fraught 
With poison: the poor slave who has 

not seen, 
lor many a mournful year, his parent sun, 
Falls not abme : from earth's deep ca- 
verns rise 
Foul baleful blasts, that scatter faU» 

around ; 
While the dank wood, which never sun- 
beam piere'd, 
Boundless as ocean, as the deluge old, 



Broke from his strong foundations, and || blends the moi-a vapour, and infects the 
o'er-whehn'd heavens. 



5G 



VofefllY. 



Nor only the dank wood, and noxious ] Knows not to pierce! Where Leganez* 



mine, 

Mark the wild wastes beneath the burn- 
ing zone : 
On Darien's marshy shores, and the rank 

plains 
Of hot Guiana, to the sick'ning gale, 
O'er many a solitary league outspread, 
Th' unnavigable pool malignant breathes 
Putrid contagion. The proud lake that 

laves, 
In fab'Ious lore, Dorado's golden walls. 
Sleeps stagnant; or, by autumn's floods 

when swoln, 
Breathes wider ruin; teeming monstrous 

births 
And reptile tribes in myriads, without 

name, 
Unclean and noisome. In the tainted 

breeze 
Pale Death exults, and snuffs his prey 

afar ! 

Rejoice, ye beauteous isles ! whose 
happier shores 

Nor foul infection blots, nor births ob- 
scene 

Dare enter. Thee, Jamaica, chiefly 
thee, 

Be grateful ever. Fragrant are thy 
woods, 

Thy hills salubrious, and thy vallies gay. 

Tho' fierce the sun that gilds thy sultry 
plains, 

Shades unpolluted, sweetly murm'ring 
rills, 

Are thine: from cv'ry hill exub'rant 
flows 

The bubbling fountain, whence thy faint- 
ing sons 

Drink life and joy. Now, while the daz- 
zling heav'ns 

Pour on my aching brows their fires in- 
tense, 

Waft me, ye balmy, salutary gales, 

To the cool margent of A^ualta's* Hood, 

Whose deep delicious shades the noon- 
tide beam 



* A river so called in the ruouutaius oi 
Jamaica. 



blue hills, 
In formidable state, aerial rise, 
f he parent god, mid' clouds and storms 

sublime, 
Holds his imperial throne; there, joyful 

sees 
His tributary vapours round him spread, 
And hears, responsive to his deep-ton'd 

Voice, 
The deeper thunder. From his secret urn 
A thousand riv'lets stream ; soft warbling 

some; 
Others precipitant, with louder tone, 
Call the fix'd eye to where the vast 

cascade 
Falls bright in awful beauty ; 'till the sire 
His vagrant train unites, and to the vale 
Pours fierce th' impetuous torrent. Gen- 
tly now, 
Pleas'd with the cool recess, the copious 

flood 
Oft turns delighted, ling'ring as he rolls ! 

And ever gently roll, sweet stream, as 
now 

Soft murm'ring; in thy crystal waters 
still 

May languor solace, and affliction's sons 

Drink sweet oblivion. Bathe your wea- 
ried limbs, 

Ye Lybian maidens, unreprov'd, unaw'd: 

(Nor sportive smiles, nor hov'ring loves» 
disdain 

Your harmless revels.) While the yield- 
ing wave 

Some clasp with circling arm, and 
buoyant float 

The profluent eddy ; others, bolder still, 

Plunge in the blue profound, and pleas'd 
far off 

Emerge exulting. In the jocund toil 

They waste th' unconscious hours ; for- 
got awhile — 

Could slavery but forget — past cruel 
wrongs, 

And dread of future woes. But soon 
(too soon !) 

The sportive smiles, and hov'ring loves, 
are fled — 

For now, the bank obtain' d (th* invidi- 
ous term 



POETRY. 



57 



Of sweet indulgence pass'd), afflictive 

thought, 
And aching memory, and anxious dread, 
Cloud each dejected brow. Soft Ebo* 

nymphs 
Awake the plaintive lay ; their own sad 

fate, 
Torn from their native fields and sable 

loves, 
Lamenting loud. The hard impending 

rocks 
Their sighs re-echo, and Agualta flows 
In deeper murmurs, Israel's daughters 

thus, 
In artless strains, by Babylon's proud 

.stream, 
Bewail'ri their captive doom, and Zion 

lost ! 



Bat, lo ! triumphant, thro' the gates 
of morn — 
Not with meek roseate smile, and gentle Ij NatUre revives! The vivid ether flows 



Invoke, with blended pray'r, the ling'r- 
ing breeze. 

He comes! he comes! the silvery 

wave afar 
The salutary pow'r proclaims : and now 
His parent sun he follows, and, elate, 
Leads o'er the laughing land his sportiy« 

train. 
O blow, delightful gales, and on your 

wings 
Sweet coolness bring ! So from my airy 

bow 'is 
Shall bloated Febrisfly ; th' Iberian vales 
Her fit abode, where Cuba's slothful sons, 
In woods ne'er open'd to the cheering ray, 
Their languid hours drag on, forbidding 

thee, 
Kind breeze, to enter — thee, best friend 

to life! 



step 
Soft-stealing ; but with ardent eye in- 

ll im'd — 
Day's radiant god his burning axle drives, 
And unrelenting, o'er the scorched plains 
Leads the hot hours. Quick from his 

piercing gaze 
Shrinks the young twilight, and affrighted 

seeks 
ITi' embow'ring grove, and mountains' 

western shade. 

'Tis languor all ! Wide o'er the sultrv 
shore 

The blazing torrent spreads : ih' unruf- 
fled se i 

Shines like fus'd silver; and the solar rav, 



Pure, balmy, vig'rous ; to the sinking 

soul 
Breathing elysium. Meantime ocean 

smiles, 
And day's fierce tyrant pours, or seems 

to pour, 
A milder radiance, and a soften'd beam. 

Rejoicing in the gale, a lovelier green 
Th' enliven'd cane-field wears, and gen- 
tly waves 
Luxuriant. To the unpolluted ear 
How musical, amid the verdant ranks, 
The breeze soft whisp'ring ! Nor un- 

tuneful even 
His mightier voice resounding, when the 
waves, 



fire. 

No kindly interposing cloud is seen ; 

No zephyr breathes. The stagnant air 
o'erpoweis 

Life's functions ; and chill age, and ar- 
dent youth, 

* The Ebo negroes are the gentlest and 
mildest ot* all the nutions of Africa. They 
never rise into rebellion ; hut often sink under 
a sense of their condition, and destroy them- 
selves. 

No. XLIIL Vol. VI IT. 



Thence fierce reflected, darts redoubled Driv ' n b . v ,lis bl- eath, rage idly on the 

shore. 

Yet days there are when unrelenting 

heat 
Unconquer'd triumphs ; when the healing 

breeze 
Comes not, or struggling flags his weary 

wings 
Oppress'd. 'Tis then your lone retreats, 

ye hills, 
Once more I seek; your pure etherial air 
I 



58 



POETRY. 



I drink, and live. Meantime the varied 

scene, 
Awful and boundless, draws th' enchanted 

eye, 
'Till wonder ends, ip rapt devotion lost! 
(To be continued.) 



AN ENIGMA BY LORD THURLOW. 
If it be true, as Welchmen say, 
Honour depends on pedigree; 

Then stand by, clear the way, 
Retire, ye sons of haughty Gower, 
And ye, the race of proud Glendower, 

And let me have fair play. 

For tho' you boast thro' ages dark 
Your pedigree from Noah's ark, 

Painted on parchment nice ; 
I'm older still, tho' I was there, 
As that before I did appear 

With Eve in Paradise. 

For I was Adam, Adam I, 
And I was Eve, and Eve was I, 

In spite of wind and weather j 
Yet mark me, Adam was not I, 
Neither was Mrs; Adam I, 

Unless they were together. 

Suppose, then, Eve and Adam talking ; 
With all my heart, but if they're walking, 

Then ends all simile: 
Tho' I've a tongue, and often talk, 
And also legs, yet when I walk 

It puts an end to me. 

Not such an end but that I've breath; 
Therefore, to such a kind of death 

I make but small objection: 
For soon I come again in view, 
And tho' a Christian, yet 'tis true, 

I die by resurrection. 



ON THE REVIVAL OF THE IRISH 
HARP. 

And shall the harp be heard once more, 
And breathe its strains on Erin's shore ? 



And shall we hear the minstrel's song, 
Which dire neglect has hush'd so long ? 
Oh ! yes, the cloud is nearly past 
Which sorrow en our island cast ; 
For sure the dawn of hope is near 
When Erin's bards again we hear. 

Thus, Memnon's lyre ne'er breath'd a 

sound 
When darkness spread the gloom around; 
But soon as past the shades of night 
Its cheerful cadence haii'd the light. 

And thus our harp neglected hung, 
Untouch'd, unheeded, and unstrung, 
Till sorrow's night had pass'd away, 
And Heaven restor'd a brilliant day. 

Emma D. 

Sent to the fair Author of the above Lines, 
with a Straw Harp crowned with 
Shamrock. 

Fair bard ! whose simply warbling num- 
bers 
Can wake to voice the harp that slumbers; 
Whose gentle minstrelsy prolongs 
Thine Erin's own sweet pensive songs : 

Dear daughter of the tuneful Nine, 
A correspondent gift be thine; 
For, lo! thy meed, an harp I send, 
Where Erin's own productions blend. 

And while these emblems, simply fair. 
Shall deck thy fancy -braided hair, 
While gazing, kindling crowds admire 
On beauty's brow lov'd Erin's lyre, 

Oh! then shall inspiration meet 
Thine own prophetic lay complete — 
Thine eyes' soft beams each heart shall 

move 
That feels the touch of patriot love; 
And ev'ry chord, like Memnon's lyre, 
Shall vibrate with celestial fire. 

R. W. 



I I I I I I I I I I I 



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60 



METEOROLOGICAL JOURNAL for May, 1812. 

Conducted, at Manchester, by Thomas Hanson, Esq. 



1812. 






Pressurt 




Te 


mperuture. 




I 




Wind. 














Weather. 


Er.,p. Rum 


MAY 


Max. 


iUin. 


Mean. 


Max. 


M in. 


Mean. 


1 


NE 2 


30,20 


30,0o 


30,100 


5u,o J 


40,0° 


45,00* 


cloudy 







2 


S l 


30,20 


29,86 


30,030 


52,0 


38,0 


45,00 


fine 


— 




3 


W 2 


29,8b 


29,73 


29,795 


54,0 


37,5 


45,75 


brilliant 


— 




l 4 


W 2 


29,80 


29,73 


29,765 


55,0 


37,0 


46,00 


brilliant 


— 




5 


W 2 


30,00 


29,80 


29,900 


56,0 


37,0 


46,50 


brilliant 


— 




6 


N Wo 


30,15 


30,00 


30,0/5 


53,0 


37,0 


45,00 


cloudy 


— 




7 


NE 2 


30,15 


30,00 


30,075 


51,0 


42,0 


46,50 


cloudv 


— 




S 


S 2 


30,00 


29,70 


29,850 


71,0 


42,0 


50,50 


brilliant 


— 




9 


S W 2 


29,70 


29,65 


29,675 


72,0 


54,0 


l>3 00 


variable 


— 


— 


@ 10 


S 2 


29,05 


29,45 


29 550 


63,0 


49,0 


56,00 


variable 


— 


— 


11 


W 3 


29,65 


29,20 


29,425 


61,5 


5o,0 


55,75 


( lo'.uly 


— 




IS 


W 2 


29,45 


29-42 


29,435 


62,0 


44,0 


53,00 


cloudy 


* 




13 


W ] 


29,45 


29,42 


29,435 


•■•9,0 


44,0 


51*50 


clear 


— 


1,300 


14 


W i 


1 29,70 


29,42 


29,.">6o 


6!,o 


48,0 


54,50 


rainy 


— 


— 


15 


\V o 


30,15 


29,70 


29,925 


63,0 


43,0 


53,00 


sl.o.. crj 


— 


— 


l(j 


N E 2 


30,33 


30,15 


30,240 


53,0 


45,0 


49,00 


cloudy 


.320 




17 


E 4 


30,33 


30,21 


3. ',270 


56,0 


45,0 


50,50 


cloudy 


— 


— 


I 18 


E . 3 


30,20 


29,96 


30 080 


55,0 


40,0 


47,50 


cloudy 


— 




19 


E 2 


29,96 


29,70 


29,830 


58,0 


45,0 


5 1 ,50 


cloudy 


— 


— 


20 


E 2 


29,70 


•'9,6-. 


2: so 7 5 


57,0 


48,0 


52,50 


cloudy 


• 325 




21 


N i 


29,90 


2.0,65 


29,775 


• r »7,5 


4S,0 


52,75 


cloudy 


— 




22 


N i 


30,30 


29,90 


30,100 


57,0 


4 1,0 


49,00 


brilliant 


— 




23 


S i 


30,35 


30,30 


30,325 


67,0 


40,0 


53,50 


cloudy 


.310 


1,105 


24 


SVV l 


30,35 


30,26 


30,305 


75,0 


48,0 


6 1, 50 


gloomy 


— 




25 


W i 


30,26 


29,96 


30,110 


72,0 


50,0 


61, CO 


rainy 


— 


— 


2G 


W i 


29,9(3 


29,65 


29,805 


71,0 


54,0 


62,50 


rainy 


— 


— 


27 


NW 2 


29,65 


29,40 


29,525 


71,0 


55,0 


63,00 


gloomy 


— 




28 


S i 


29,54 


29,40 


29,4?0 


72,0 


54,0 


63,00 


brilliant 


.50 1 


.605 


29 


S 2 


29,M 


29,45 


29 495 


70,0 


55,0 


6j,5o 


r liny 


— 


— i 
i 


30 


SW 2 


29,70 ' 


29, \r, 


29,575 


72,0 


52,0 


62,00 


cloudy 


— 


SI 


W 3 


29:70 


29,40 


29,550 


65,0 


43,n 


56,50 


showery 


. 205 


.405 


mi ■ MM Ml III =*.-- 


M&yt 


29.802 


.' \ .7// 






1,660 


1 
3,415] 



* Observations on the evaporation, rtsumed. » 

RESULTS. 

Mean barometrical pressure, sp-s6j — maximum, 30.35, wind S. I — minimum, 29.20, wind 

W. 3 — Range 1.15 inch. 

The greatest variation of pressure in 24 hours, is .65 ot'au nub, which was on the | lth. 

Mean temperature, 53*53 -Maximum, 75" wind S.W. l— Minimum i?^ wind N W I— Range 38. 

The greatest variation of temperature in 24 boms is 29 u , which was on the 8th. 

Spaces described by the barometer, 7 inches — Number of changes, 14. 

Quantity of" water evaporated since the I lth, I.660 inch 

Rain, &c, this month, 3 415 inch. — Number of wet days, jo — To.al rain this year, 17.555 in. 

WIND. 
N NE E S E S S W W N W Variable. Calm. 
2 3 4 5 3 72 2 

Brisk winds 3 — Boisterous ones l 
The mean diurnal temperature, which marked the c!p-c-.of the preceding month, gained a 
gradual augmentation to the 7th of the present. On the following day (the 8th) the air re- 
ceived an additional heat of ten degrees, when it shewed ti.e greatest variation of the month 
in twenty-four bonis. The minimum of the following day was us high as 54", w huh raised 
the mean for the day to (;;-'. 

The brilliaiicy of the atu osphere now changed to a ln-mid and gloomy state, and which 
continued to the close, with the exception of occasional gbams of sunshine. 

Lightning apd distant thunder, have frequently occurred On the K,tb there were several 
faint peals, which seemed to effect a diminution of the previous sudden increased temperature. 
On the J Sth, in the evening, after a brilliant day, a low barometrical pressure, and high 
tempi rature, clouds began to form, and the wind to blow from two opposite points, the higher 
current due south, and the lower north; soon after thunder was heard, and 1 -tin f 11 in slight 
showers; the clouds soon dispersed. The following day there were much lightning ami thunder 
in the afternoon. On the 3 1st similar occurences took place. These various circumstances 
evidently co-operated. in lowering the previous hi>;!> temperature 

Toe mean monthly temperature is 1 1° more than that of April ; the maximum occurred on 
the 25th, and the minimum on the :i<\ and three following days. Prevailing wiuds, west. 



61 
METEOROLOGICAL TABLE for Mat, 1812. 

Conducted by Mr. J. Gibson, Laboratory, Stratford, Essex. 



1812 


Wind. 




Prtssurt 




Te 


mperature. 


Weather. 


Evap. ' 


Rain. 


MAY 


Max. 


Min. 1 


Mran. 


Max. 1 


Min. 1 


Mean . 




i 


N 


30,0(j 


29,99 | 


30,025 


55° 


45° 


50,0 s 


•loudy 


_ 1 


__ 




<2 


N E 


59,99 


29,84 


99,915 


57 


4 2 


49.5 


cloudy 


— 






3 


Var. 


39,84 


39,80 


39,830 


57 


34 


45,5 


fine 


— 




5 


4 


N W 


29,96 


39,84 : 


29,900 


6i 


37 


49,0 


clear 


— 






5 


Var. 


3o,U4 


29,9"' 


3u,ooo 


63 


40 


51,5 


clouds 


— 






6 


E 


30,07 


30, .4 


30,055 


64 


43 


53,5 


line 


•47 






7 


E 


30,07 


29,96 


30,015 


62 


46 


54,0 


ft lie 


— 






K 


Var. 


29,96 


29,8(3 


29,910 


76 


53 


64,5 


fi ne 


— 






9 


S 


89,87 


29,84 


29,855 


7~> 


55 


65,0 


clouds 


■67 




• 


10 


s w 


89.87 


89.70 


29,785 


61 


54 


57,5 


rain 


— 


— 




1 I 


S W 


89,70 


89,69 


29,695 


67 


50 


58,5 


showers 


— 


— 




la 


N W 


29,69 


39,66 


29, '>7~> 


63 


4() 


54,5 


sbowen 


.33 


•39 




it 


s w 


29,6b 


29,66 


39,670 


60 


44 


52,0 


showery 


— 


.20 




14 


s w 


29,80 


29,6a 


29,740 


64 


39 


51,5 


cloudy 


— 






15 


N 


39,96 


29,80 


29,880 


58 


44 


51,0 


showery 


— 


— 




i6 


N 


30,00 


89,96 


89,980 


<)3 


45 


54,0 


showery 


— 


— 




17 


IV E 


3o,00 


29,96 


29.930 


54 


46 


50,0 


sbowery 


— 


— 


<t 


IS 


E 


89,96 


89,87 


39,915 


63 


43 


58,0 


clouds 


.43 


•17 


iy 


E 


29,87 


29,75 


29,910 


70 


55 


62,5 


cloudy 


— 


■ 32 




20 


W 


29,77 


39.75 


29,76" 


66 


54 


60,0 


clouds 


— 


— 




8] 


Var. 


89.96 


89,77 


29,365 


07 


46 


56,5 


rainy 


— 


.50 




22 


N W 


30, IS 


89,96 


30,070 


52 


38 


45,0 


faii- 


— 






2:1 


E 


30,25 


30, IS 


30,215 


64 


48 


56,0 


fair 


• 42 






24 


S E 


30,25 


30,15 


30,200 


6l 


54 


57,5 


cloudy 


— 


— 




25 


S W 


30,15 


29,9S 


30,065 


C6 


54 


60,0 


cloudy 


— 


— 


o 


2li 


N \V 


89,98 


39,6s 


29,830 


77 


56 


66,5 


fine 


.41 






27 


S 


29,^9 


29,67 


89,680 


78 


53 


65,5 


tine 


— 






23 


S E 


89,69 


29 69 


29,690 


75 


56 


05,5 


cloudy 


— 


.16 




29 


S E 


89,84 


29,69 


29,765 


"6 


5 4 


65,0 


showery 


— 


— 




3o 


\V 


29,8b' 


29,84 


29,350 


78 


54 


66,0 


clouds 


— 


— 




31 


s \v 


39,87 


29,84 


29,355 


7- 


57 


64,5 


showers 


•89 


.33 




1 Wean 


29,886 


Wean 


56,7 


Total 


5,67/71 


2 18»n. 



Erratum. — in the Table for April — for 30,935, mean height of the barometer, read, 29,952 
inches. 

R ESU LTS. Prevailing winds, westerly. — Mean height of barometer, 29,88b" inches — ther- 
mometer, 56,7 <> . — i'v«tul of evaporation 3,67 inches. — Rain 2,13 inches — total in another 
guage 2,07 inches. 

Notes. — 3d. A stratus on the marshes at night — 4th. Morning remarkably fine — white frost. 
— 6th Wind strong and cold from the E, in the evening. — I Oth, llth, and 12th, showery 
d.'.\s. — 13th. Day very showery j some large hail in the afternoon, and several clans of thunder. 
— i4lh. Cloudy and tine— a stratus on the marshes at night. — 17th. Very cloudy day, with 
showers. — 18th. A lunar halo at night — a stratus on the marshes. — 19th. Day cloudy and fine. 
About half past eight o'clock, P. M. the whole horizon, from the E. by the S, to the W. 
became suddenly darkened, and there was every appearance of an approaching storm ; in about 
a quarter of an hour it commenced in the S. the thunder and lightning being at iirst very 
distant: Iheysoon, however, increased to a very great degree; the lightning almost inces- 
sant, and unusually vivid, the whole of the S. \V . appearing, at times, as if in bright sunshine; 
at hist it ran nearly in an horizontal line : about nine o'clock, observed some forked lightning 
ill the S. W. — rain heavy, with very little wind. The whole continued about an hour and a 
half, when the wind was variable --fixed in the W. in the course of tlu- night — 80th. Cloudy 
and line — night showery. — 21st. Very gloomy morning — rainy day. — 31st. Rainy night. 

Prices of Fire-Ojfice, Mine, Doc!;, Canal, Water-Works, Brewery, 
and Public Institution Shares, S?c. SfC. for June, 1812. 

Albion Fire and Life Assurance £49 a 50 p sh. 



do. 

£20 a 20 5s. do, 
, 290 a 291 do. 
113^ a 114 p. rt. 
150 do. 
£\ 5 a 4 10 p. sh. pm. 
.£'80 do 

31 10s. do. dis. 
45 do. 

590 do. 

133 do. 



Eagle Ditto 
London Ditto 
Roj ai L\« hange 

London Dock .Stock 
W < si India do 

Chelsea Water- Works 
East London Ditto . 
.South London Ditto 
West Middlesex Ditto 
Birmingham Canal 
Grand Surry Ditto 

WOLFE & Co. 9, 'Change-Alley, Cornhill, $ 



Huddcrxfield Canal . 

kcmii t and Avon Ditto 
Thames and Med way Ditto 
Wilts and Berks Ditto . 
Leeds and Li' erpool Ditto 
London Institution 
Surry Ditto 
Auction Mart 
Cove nl «. u. Itii Theatre 
1 lover 1 1 . ei ' Road 
Highgate Archway 
(ias Light Company . 



£20 pr *b. 
25 do. 
30 do. 
18 a 19 do. 
2o5 a 208 do. 
£52 los. do. 
. 15 >'o. 

34 <:o. 

425 do. 

15 do. dis. 
30 tlo. 

. £4 108. do. pu>» 



FORTUNES Co, 13, Cornhili. 



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THE 



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OF 



ARTS, LITERATURE, COMMERCE, 

Manufactures, Fashions, and Politics, 

For AUGUST, 1S1C. 
VOL. VIII. 

£!jc jrortT>fourtI} dumber* 



EMBELLISHMENTS. 

1. View or tHB Treaty -House, Uxbkidgb .... 

2. St, James's Square ...... 

3. Ladies' Evening Dress ....... 

4. Promenade Costume ...... 

5. French Scroll Sofa ....... 

6. Allegorical Wood-cut, with Patterns of British Manufactures 

7. Patterns for Needle-Work ....... 

CONTENTS. 



FACE 

92 
102 
111 

ib. 
1 13 
116 

ib. 



PAGE 

Conversations on the Arts, by Juninus 63 
Kupli, or the Confiscated Diamonds 08 
Travels in North America, by Alex- 
ander Wilson ,72 

The Modern Spectator, No. XVII. 80 
Biographical Sketch of the late Mr. 

J. Woelfl, the Musical Composer 85 
Commercial Intercourse with Africa [)\ 
The Treaty -House, Uxbndge . . 92 
On Commerce, No. XXII. ... 94 
On a Method of unrolling Ancient 

Manuscripts 95 

Intelligence, Literary, Scientific, &c. 96' 
Musical Review. — Kieusser's Three 
Airs for the Piano-Forte — Cra- 
mer's Anglo - Caledonian Air — 
Lanza's three Waltzes — Holder's 
Sonata — Jones's " Baron of Mow- 
bray" — Smith's Duet for Two 
Performers — dementi and Co.'s 
Collection of Rondos, &c. Nos. 
58 and GO 98 



PAGE 

. 102 



St. James's Square .... 
Retrospect of Politics. — Russia and 
North of Europe — Spain — Anglo- 
Portuguese Army — South of 
Spain— East of Spain and Gueril- 
las — Spanish Colonies — United 
States of America — Naval Intel- 
ligence — Domestic Intelligence . 110 

Fashions for Ladies Ill 

Medical Report ib. 

Agricultural Report 112 

Fashionable Furniture . . . .113 
Fragments and Anecdotes. — Dr. 
Ley den — Pepin, King of France 
— The Capture of an Opera Box ib. 
Allegorical Wood-cut, with Patterns 1 16 

Poetry 117 

London Markets 121 

Meteorological Table — Manchester 12J 
Meteorological Table — London . 1?3 
Prices of Companies' Shares . . ib. 
Prices of Stocks 124 

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CONVERSATIONS ON TFIi: ARTS.— By Jim m-. 

(Continued from p. 0.) 

Miss JIT. (reach) general idea of this subject, and fiud 

o.\ tiic nature of mankind. 11 a solution of all sucli questions, 
After having considered the rise i let us, in our imagination, make a 
and progress of anatomy, the vari- I man ; in oilier words, let us suppose 
ous discoveries that have been made i that the mind, or immaterial part, 
in it from time to time, the great ' is to be placed in a corporeal fabric, 
number of diligent observers -who in order to hold correspondence with 
have applied themselves to this art, [I other materi;il beings, by the inter- 
and the importance of the study, not , vent ion of the body; and then con- 
only for the prevention and cure of sider, a priori, what will be wanted 
diseases, but in furnishing (he live- for her accommodation, in this wi- 
liest proofs of divine wisdom, the quiry we shall plainly see the neces? 
following questions seem naturally sity and advantage, and, therefore, 
to arise: Foruhat purpose is (here (he final cause of most of the parts 
such a variety of parts in the human which we actually find in the hu- 
bodv ? Why such a complication of man body ; and if we consider, that, 
nice and tender machinery ? \\ by in order to answer some of the requi- 
>\as there not rather a more simple, sites, human wit and invention would 
less delicate, and less expensive 
frame ? 



In order to acquire a satisfactory 
No. XLIV. Vol. VJJJ. 



be very insufficient; we need not 
be surprised if we meet with some 

parts of the body whose use we cjii- 

K 



64 



CONVERSATIONS ON THE ARTS. 



not perceive, and with some ope- 
rations or functions which we can- 
not explain. We can see that the 
whole bears the most striking cha- 
racter of excelling wisdom and in- 
genuity; but the imperfect sense 
and capacity of man cannot pretend 
to reach every part of a machine, 
which nothing less than the intelli- 
gence and power of the Supreme 
Being could contrive and execute. 

First, then, the mind, the think- 
ing, immaterial agent must be pro- 
vided with a place of immediate 
residence, which shall have all the 
requisites for the union of spirit and 
body : accordingly siie is provided 
with the brain, where she dwells as 
governess and superintendent of the 
whole fabric. In the next place, 
as she is to hold a correspondence 
with all the material beings around 
her, she must be supplied with or- 
gans of sense, as we call them. The 
eye is adapted to sight, the ear to 
sound, the nose to smell, the mouth 
to taste, and the skin to touch. 
Farther, she must be furnished with 
organs of communication between 
herself and the brain, and every 
other part of the body, fitted to con- 
vey her commands, and to influence 
the whole. For this purpose the 
nerves are actually given : they are 
cords which rise from the brain, the 
immediate residence of the mind, 
and disperse themselves in branches 
through all the parts of the body. 
They convey all the different kinds 
of sensations to the mind in the 
brain, and likewise carry out from 
thence all her commands or influ- 
ence to the other parts of the body. 
They are intended to be occasional 
monitors against all such impressions 
as might endanger the well-being 
of the whole, or of any particular 



part ; which vindicates the Creator 
of all things, in havingactually sub- 
jected us to those many disagreeable 
and painful sensations which we are 
exposed to from a thousand acci- 
dents in life. Moreover, the mind, 
in this corporeal system, must be en- 
dowed with the power of moving 
from place to place, that she may 
have intercourse with a variety of 
objects, that she may fly from such 
as arc disagreeable, dangerous, or 
hurtful, and pursuesuch as are plea- 
sant and useful to her ; and, accord- 
ingly, she is furnished with limbs, 
and with muscles, and tendons, the 
instruments of motion, which are 
found in every part of the fabric 
where motion is necessary; and to 
support and give firmness, to keep 
the softer parts in their proper 
places, to give fixed points for and 
the proper direction to its motions, 
as well as to protect some of the more 
important and tender organs from 
external injuries, there must be some 
firm prop-work interwoven through 
the whole ; and in fact for such 
purposes the bones are given. The 
prop-work must not be made into 
one rigid fabric, for that would pre- 
vent motion ; therefore there are 
a number of bones. These pieces 
must all be firmly bound together 
to prevent dislocation, and this end 
is perfectly well answered by the 
ligaments. The extremities of these 
bony pieces, where they move and 
rub one upon another, must have 
smooth and slippery surfaces for 
easy motion. This is most happily 
provided for by the cartilages and 
mucus of the joints. The inter- 
stices of all these parts must be filled 
up with some soft and ductile mat- 
ter, which shall keep them in their 
places, uuite them, and at the same 






C0NVEBSAT10NS ON TUB ARTS. 



63 



time allow them to move a 1 it tic one 

upon another ; and these purposes , 
are answered by the cellular mem- 
brane, or adipose substance. There I 
must he an outward covering over 
the whole apparatus, both to give : 
it compactness and to defend it 
against a thousand injuries, which 
in fact ;ire the very purposes of the 
skin and oilier integuments. Last- 
ly, the mind, being- formed for so- 
ciety and intercourse with beings of 
her own kind, she must be endowed 
with powers of expressing and com- 
municating her thoughts by some 
sensible marks or signs, which shall 
be easy to herself and admit of great 
variety : and accordingly she is pro- 
vided with the organs and faculty 
of speech, by which she can throw 
out signs with amazing facility, and 
vary them without end. 

Thus we have built up an animal 
body, which would seem to be pret- 
ty complete; but as it is the nature 
of matter to be altered and worked 
upon by matter, so in a very little | 
time such a living creature must b^ I 
destroyed, if there is no provision | 
forthercpairingofthe injuries which I 
she must commit on herself, and j 
those to which she must be exposed ! 
from without : therefore a treasure ! 
of blood is actually provided in the 
heart and vascular system, full of 
nutritious and healing particles, i 
fluid enough to penetrate into the | 
minutest part of the animal, im- 
pelled by the heart, and conveyed 
by the arteries, it washes every part, 
builds up what was broken down, 
Bind sweeps away the old and useless j 
materials: hence we sec the neces- 
sity or advantage of the heart and 
arterial system. What more there 
is of this blood than enough to re- 
pair the present damages of the ma- 



chine, must not be lost, but should 
be again returned to the heart ; and 
for this purpose the venous system 
is actually provided. These requi- 
sites in the animal explain a priori 
the circulation of tlie blood. 

The old materials which were 
become useless and arc swept off by 
the current of the blood, must be 
separated and thrown out of the 
system ; therefore g/antfr, the organs 
of secretion, are given for straining 
whatever is redundant, vapid, or 
noxious from the mass of blood ; and 
when strained, they are thrown out 
by emunctoties, called organs of 
excretion. 

But now, as the machine must be 
constantly wearing, the reparation 
must be carried on without inter- 
mission, and the strainers must al- 
ways be employed ; therefore, there 
is actually a perpetual circulation 
of the blood, and the secretions are 
always going on. Even ail this 
provision, however, would not be 
sufficient, for that store of bloud 
would soon be consumed, and the 
fabric would break down, if there 
was not made a provision of fresh 
supplies. These, we observe, in 
fact, arc profusely scattered around 
her, in the animal and vegetable 
kingdoms ; and she isfurnished with 
bands, the fittest instruments that 
could be contrived, for gathering 
them, and preparing them, in a va- 
riety of ways, for the mouth, But 
these supplies, which we call food, 
must be considerably changed ; (her 
must be converted into blood : there- 
lore, she is provided with teeth, for 
cutting and bruising the food, and 
with a stomach, for melting it down ; 
in short, with all the organs sub- 
servient to digestion. The iin< r 
parts of the aliments, only, can be 
K 2 



6(5 



CONVERSATIONS ON THE ARTS. 



useful in the constitution. These 
must be taken up and conveyed in- 
to the blood, and the dregs must be 
thrown off. With this view the in- 
testinal canal is actually given : it 
separates the nutritious part, which 
is called chyle, to be conveyed into 
the blood by the 

The rest, Miss Eve, Susan has 
torn away. But you seem languid ; 
I will read some poetry to amuse 
you. 

Miss Eve. Have you any poetry 
by the third and fourth successful 
candidates? 

Miss K. The third died so very 
young, that he is almost unknown ; 
and I never heard that the fourth 
had written any poetry. 

Miss Eve. The name of Gillray 
brings to my mind the song of 
Gilderoy. 

Miss K. I mean to ^et that song, 
and to learn it by heart. 

Miss Eve. I know it. 

Miss K. Will you repeat it, 
Miss Eve ? 

Miss Eve. I will sing it. Give 
me my harp. 'Tis in this manner 
that they celebrate the prizes given 
by the academy of Rome, with music 
and song, not in the John-Trot way 
the English do : they should adopt 
this practice. 

My Gilderoy was a bonny boy, &c. 

Has any of the unsuccessful can- 
didates written any thing that has 
been published ? 

Miss K. Collings, Grose, and 
Penny have. Collings, who resides 
opposite to the Asylum, near Lam- 
beth-Marsh Gate, is a poet. Mi- 
chael Angelo would say, that if he 
had produced half a dozen as good 
designs as his Monmouth-street, his 
poetry would also have been consi- 



dered, and he would have been en- 
titled to the fourth prize. 

Miss Eve. He is of the same name 
as Collins, author of the Passions. 

Miss K. Their names sound 
nearly the same ; but that was 
Wm. Collins; this isSaml. Collings. 

Miss Eve. Have you any poetry 
by the latter ? 

Miss K. He has written a great 
deal of poetry ; some of his compo- 
sitions are under several ofBarto- 
lozzi's prints; also under prints 
from Reynolds. Here is a piece 
written by him above twenty years 
ago, and entitled 

THE MONTHS, 

JANUARY. 

Lo, my fair, the morning hazy 
Peeps abroad from yonder hill j 

Phoebus rises red and hazy, 

Frost has stopp'd the village mill. 

FEBRUARY. 

All around looks sad and dreary, 

Fast the flaky snow descends j 
Yet the red-breast chirrups cheery. 

While the mitten'd lass attends. 

MARCH. 
Rise the winds and rocks the cottage* 
Thaws the roof and wets the path j 
Dorcas cooks the sav'ry pottage, 
Smokes the cake upon the hearths 
/ 
APRIL. 

Sunshine intermits with ardour, 
Shades fly swiftly o'er the fields, 

ShowVs revive the drooping verdure* 
Sweets the sunny upland yields. 

MAY. 
Pearly beams the eye of morning ; 

Child! forbear the deed unblest : 
Hawthorn ev'ry hedge adorning, 

Pluck the flow'rs, but spare the nest. 

JUNE. 
Schoolboys in the brook disporting, 

Spend the sultry hours of pla • 
While the nymphs and swfains Att courting, 

Seated on the new-made hay. 



CONVERSATIONS ON THE AfcTS, 



G7 



JULY. 
Maids, with each a guardian lover, 

While the vivid lightning flics, 
Hast'ning to the nearest cover, 

Clasp their bands before their eyes. 

AUGUST. 
Sec the reapers, gleaners dining, 

Seated on the shady grass; 
O'er the gale the squire reclining, 

Wanton eyes each ruddy lata. 

SEPTEMBER. 

Hark — a sound like distant thunder! 

Muid'rer, may thy malice fail ! 
Torn from all they love asunder, 

VVidow'd birds around us wail. 

OCTOBER. 

Now Pomona poms her treasure, 
Leaves autumnal strew the ground : 

Plenty crowns the market measure, 
While the mill runs briskly rouud. 

NOVEMBER. 

rVow the giddy rites of Comus 
Crown the banter's dear delight; 

All ! the year is Meeting from us, 
Bleak the day and drear the uight. 

DECEMBER. 

Bring more wood and set the glasses; 

Join, my friends, our Christmas cheer: 
Come, a catch, and kiss the lasses, 

Christmas comes but ouce a year. 

I have no poetry by Capt. Fran- 
cis Grose, F. A. S. though proba- 
bly he has written some. He was a 
very eccentric man. Among other 
things, lie wrote an Essay on Draw- 
ing Corn j the following ex- 
tract from which will afford a spe- 
cimen of his manner : — 

" The nose may be divided into 
the angular, aquiline, or Roman; 
the parrot's beak, the straight, or 
Grecian ; the bulbous or bottled ; 
the turned-up or snub ; and the 
mixed or broken. Mouths may be 
arranged under four different gene- 
ra or kinds ; of each of these there 
are several species : the under- 
hung, the pouting or blubber, the 



shark's mouth, and the bone-box. 
Of chins, the most remarkable are, 
the nut-cracker, the convex ad- 
vancing, the convex retiring, the 
concave advancing, the double, and 
the cucumber. Eyes admit of many 
distinctions; the first are those of 
position, with respect to right lines 
drawn through their pupils and 
corners. Some lines so drawn and 
prolonged till they meet, form an 
angle on the forehead ; and, in 
others, concur in the middle of the 
nose. According to Lc Brun, most 
animals of (he brute creation have 
their eyes placed in the manner last 
described. Another distinction of 
eyes is, that of their distance from 
each other ; the common proportion 
being the length of an eye. Eyes 
themselves differ exceedingly in 
shape, as well as magnitude, and 
also in the form of their lids, some 
being globular and projecting, vul- 
garly called goggles ; others small 
and hollow. seeming only like narrow 
slits. The Chinese and Tartars are 
commonly represented with this last 
kiudofcyes. Eyebrows differ in size, 
distance, directions, and shape; 
some being arched and raised high 
on the forehead, others low, and 
overhanging the eye like a pent- 
house. The mouth and eyebrows 
arc the features that chiefly express 
the passions. Thus an open mouth, 
with elevated eyebrows, marks asto- 
nishment and terror ; the protrud- 
ed under-lip and contracted eye- 
brows express anger; the corners of 
the mouth drawn up, laughter, and 
drawn down, grief and weeping. " 

This work of Grose's contains 
many observations that arc worthy 
of attention. Besides his humorous 
designs, * this gentleman drew and 
published the Antiquities of Eng- 



68 



RUPLI, OR THE CONFISCATED DIAMONDS. 



land and Wales, and died in Dub- 
lin, about 20 years ago. 

Miss Eve. What poetry has 
Penny published ? 

Miss K. I don't know that he 
has published any poetry. He was 
the first lecturer on painting to the 
Royal Academy. His lectures have 
never been published ; they proba- 
bly, at this moment, lie neglected 
in some old chest or drawer, or some 
Susan may possibly be curling her 
hair with them. Those who pub- 
lish might perhaps easily procure 
them of the family, and find their 
interest in it. He died in 1791. 
Penny drew Profligacy Punished, 
and its Companion ; A Youth ap- 
parently drozoned, and its Com- 
panion, representing him restored 



to life. These are calculated to 
draw a tear from the eye of a tender 
nature. In the first, the mother 
appears overwhelmed with grief; 
in the other, with joy. He pub- 
lished many other pieces, and among 
them some of a humorous kind. 

Miss Eve. What did John Hopp- 
ner draw in this way ? 

Miss K. When a lad, he drew 
Tight Lacing — a citizen on his re- 
turn from a city feast, stripped , 
rubbed, and greased by his maid- 
servants, to keep him from burst- 
ing ; John Bull in all the Horrors 
attendant on his Situation, and se- 
veral others. He afterwards became 
one of the best of our portrait- paint- 
ers. 



RUPLI, OR THE CONFISCATED DIAMONDS. 



Rupli, an Armenian, a native of 
JErzerum, had formed an intimacy, 
through the intercourse of friend- 
ship and commerce, with the cele- 
brated French traveller, Tavernier, 
during his residence in Asia. The 
many fine things that were told him 
concerning the French nation, and 
that seemed fully confirmed by the 
tried integrity of Tavernier, excit- 
ed in him a desire to pay a visit to 
France. Having converted his pro- 
perty into precious stones, he quitted 
his country, and arrived in 1671. 
without accident, at Marseilles, 
whence he proceeded to Nismes. 
Martinon, the director of the cus- 
toms at that place, on the part of 
the farmers-general, was one of the 
greatest blood-suckers in the king- 
dom, and notorious for his knavery. 
He conceived such a liking for Ru- 
pli's diamonds, that he took them 



into his own custody. But for the 
witnesses who happened to be pre- 
sent, he would probably have denied 
that he ever received them : as it 
was, he contented himself, when 
the Armenian demanded his jewels] 
again, withproposingtodividethem 
with him. To this, as may easily be 
conceived, Rupli would by no means 
accede. Martinon, however, rely- 
ing on the support of the farmers- 
general, confiscated the diamonds, 
upon the pretence of some informa- 
lity in the description of them. This 
was done after they had been six- 
teen days in his possession, and the 
sentence of confiscation was confirm- 
ed by his superiors. Rupli appealed 
to the court at Montpellier; but the 
farmers-general, diffident of their 
influence in Languedoc, removed 
the cause to Paris, where they an- 
ticipated complete succees. 



RUPLT, OH THF. CONFISCATED DIAMONDS. 



69 



The Armenian was soon in want 
of money; and, to add to Ins mis- 
fortune, lie fell into the bantla of a 
rogue of a lawyer, who was in tin* 
pay of (he farmers- general ; in 
short, his ruin seemed inevitable, 
when assistance arrived froinaquar- 

lef where it Was least expected. 
Monica ult, the advocate, a man of 
warm passions, but of great inte- 
grity and learning) proved his tu- 
telar angel. He heard of the pro- 
cess, called upon Rupli, and made 
enquiry into the circumstances of 
the affair. These the Armenian, 
who understood very little French, 
explained as well as he was able. 
Monicault asked to see his papers, 
and he now perceived the full ex- 
tent of the villany, when Rupli re- 
plied, that he had given them to 
Arouard, his advocate, who abso- 
lutely refused to return them, till 
lie was paid for certain writings, 
which he pretended to have drawn 
up for him. Monicault, indignant 
at such insidious conduct, hastened 
to Arouard, and threatened to make 
application to the president, unless 
he should immediately deliver the 
papers. The latter demanded thirty 
louis-d'ors for his trouble, which 
Rupli paid him. Arouard had the 
impudence to enquire whence he ob- 
tained the money; Monicault an- 
swered for his new client, reproach- 



sibly terminate favourably for the 
injured Armenian. Monicault soon 
decided how to act. He drew up 
a report of the case in concire, but 
emphatic terms, and then aecom- 
panied Rupli to the Duke de Let- 
diguieres, for whom he had not long 
before gained an important cause 
against the Marshal de Crcqui. Tie 
related the affair to him, represent- 
ed tlie flagrant injustice which his 
client was on the point of suffering, 
and declared that nothing but the 
.king's authority could prevent such 
a scandalous and barefaced robbe- 
ry ; wherefore, he earnestly entreat- 
ed the duke to present Rupli to the 
king. Lesdiguieres promised not 
only to do this, but even to pre- 
vail on the Marshal de Feuilladc 
to join his interest in forwarding 
the business. The king's fever the 
next morning was fixed upon for the 
purpose. Monicault, meanwhile, 
drew up a petition, which Rupli 
was to deliver, with the above-men- 
j tioned report, to the monarch. 
Arouard did not fail to inform the 
farmers-general that Monicault had 
undertaken to conduct the Armeni- 
an's suit. These financiers were so 
much the better acquainted wit li 
him, as he refused to be their advo- 
cate; they knew that his zeal, com- 
bined with his talents, was capable 
of accomplishing much, and there- 
fore endeavoured to remove this 



ed his colleague as the vilest of men, 
took the papers and departed. stumbling-block out of their way. 

He took Rupli home wilh him . One of them, named Ratonneau, 
and examined his papers, from took upon himself the task of nego- 
which he clearly perceived that the ; ciating with him. Attended by 
strangcr would be ruined, if the tri- ! three of his colleagues, he repaired 
btmal, known by the name of the with this view to Monicault, who 
Cour ties Aides, should decide in, glowed with anger when he learned 
the affair; because Arouard had li the object of their errand, which 
basely committed such errors in the :i was supported by a purse of luOO 
proceedings that they could not pos- \ louu>-d'ors. Snatching upthc purse. 



70 



JtUPLI, OR THE CONFISCATED DIAMONDS. 



lie threw it out of the window into 
the street, and then bundled the 
farmers-general neck and heels out 
at the door, with abundance of ex- 
ecrations. This scene made a great 
noise, and even came to the king's 
ears, though, for reasons which may 
easily be divined, be was not made 
acquainted with all the circum- 
stances of the case. 

At dawn of day Monicault set out 
•with his client for Versailles. They 
found the Dukede Lesdiguicres and 
de la Feuillade in the great saloon, 
and were immediately ushered by 
them into the presence of the king. 
■Rupli threw himself at the feet of 
the monarch and presented the pe- 
tition. The king read it, as it \yas 
not long. It contained congratula- 
tions on bis victories, together with 
the assurance that all the East was 
full of his glory ; but that the peo- 
ple of those remote regions, had- not 
yet heard of his justice, because 
his happy subjects alone participat- 
ed in its effects : that an unfortunate 
Armenian, who intended to return to 
his native land, would be sure to 
proclaim it every where, as he 
trusted his majesty would conde- 
scend to be himself his judge, in re- 
gard to a robbery that was medi- 
tated against him, and a violation 
of hospitality which was without a 
parallel: that the king shared the 
renown of his military achievements 
with his generals and soldiers, but 
that the glory of his justice belong- 
ed to himself alone: and that, if his 
sacred lips should pronounce sen- 
tence against him, he would, in 
punishment for his presumption, 
cheerfully resign his life, the only 
possession of which he had not been 
plundered. 

Louis having perused the peti- 



tion, made enquiry respecting the 
affair, on which the Duke de Les- 
diguieres read the report drawn up 
by Monicault. The latter related 
verbally such circumstances as had 
been omitted, and took good care 
not to forget the visit of the farmers- 
general. This scene the advocate 
related with such comic effect, that 
the king could not forbear laughing 
heartily. The same day a cabinet 
order was issued, purporting that 
the suit should be decided by the 
privy-council, and forbidding all 
other tribunals to interfere in the 
malter. With a dispatch, quite 
unusual at court in a private affair, 
this order was in one day prepared, 
signed, and transmitted both to the 
farmers-general and the tribunals. 

As the celebrated Colbert was then 
at the head of the College of Finance, 
it was necessary to make applica- 
tion also to him. On the part of the 
Armenian the business was soon in 
a train to be decided ; but the far- 
mers-general, who had previously 
pushed on the proceedings with all 
possible expedition, did not mani- 
fest the same haste before the coun- 
cil. This gave occasion to the fol- 
lowingsingular circumstance: — Ru- 
pli, whenever he went to Colbert, 
was accompanied by Monicault, 
who acted as spokesman. At one 
of their interviews, the Armenian 
perceived one of his stolen diamonds 
on the minister's finger. On their 
departure he communicated this 
observation to his upright advo- 
cate, who immediately foresaw of 
what virtue this diamond would be 
for their cause, and therefore advis- 
ed him to lake particular notice 
next time, that he was not mistaken, 
as his success depended entirely on 
that point.* This the Armenian ac- 



HUPLI, OR THE CONFISCATED DIAMONDS. 



71 



cordingly did, and was convinced 
that the diamond was one of his. 
Monicanlt, without delay, drew up 
a remonstrance to the minister, in 
the name of his client, in which he 
told him, that whoever had sold him 



issue to the affair, would have lis- 
tened to their offers, had not Moni- 
ca ult represented, that as he had 
had recourse to the justice of the 
king, he would offend his majesty 
by not waiting its operation. Thro* 



that stone deserved a halter, because the interposition of the dukes al- 



it belonged to the jewels of which 
he had been robbed : if, on the 
other hand, it was a present, it 
could have been given with no other 
view than io corrupt his integrity; 
that in this case, lie, the remou- j 
strant, humble as was his rank, 
presumed to offer him the diamond 
as a rightful gift) in the hope of 
inducing him to exercise his justice 
with the greater rigour. 

Never was Colbert more astonish- 
ed than when he read this paper. 
He acknowledged that the stone was 
u present, took the ring from his 
finger, and would hove restored it 
to Rupli. As the latter would not 
take it, the minister threw it at his 
feet. Monicanlt took it. up, and II was, that Rupli, v.iio stated the va- 



rcady mentioned, a cabinet order 
soon appeared* by which the farm- 
ers- general were allowed only eight 
days to deliver their documents, as, 
at the expiration of this time, sen- 
tence would be pronounced without 
farther delay. M. Ponce, the king's 
advocate, likewise received orders 
to submit I he affair to the council 
for their decision, in case Louis 
himself should be there; if not, to 
defer it till the next council, us his 
majesty had resolved to be present. 
The farmers-general now redoubled 
their exertions to effect a compro- 
mise, but to no purpose. The cause 
was determined on the appointed 
day, and the decision of the council 



while the Armenian was assuring 
him that this was one of the least 
valuable of the diamonds of which 
be had been plundered, the advo- 
cate laid it, unobserved, on the mi- 
nister's writing-table, and both im 



lue of his diamonds at 4jO ; 000 li- 
vies, should receive that sum, to- 
gether with 120,000 more for in- 
terest anil expeucos* This money 
the farmers-general were obliged to 
pay; and Martinon was sentenced 



mediately retired. This circum- to perpetual imprisonment. lie 
stance was likewise reported by the would have graced thegallows, had 
Duke de la Feuillade to the king, it not been contrary to the prac- 



who spoke so warmly to Colbert in 
behalf of Rupli, that the minister 
directed the whole force of his indig- 
nation against the farmers-general. 

The latter now proposed a com- 
promise to the Armenian; who, 
lired out by so many chicaneries, 
unknown in his native land, and 
almost despairing of a fortunate 

No. XLIV, Voi. VI IL 



tice of the French council, to sen- 
tence any person to suffer capital 
punishment. Rupli, overwhelmed 
with gratitude, threw himself at the 
feet of the monarch, who presented 
him with his portrait. The sentence 
was translated into all the Oriental 
languages; and Louis XIV. was 
extolled as a second Solomon. 



n 



TRAVELS IN NORTH AMERICA. 

The following Letter, extracted from the Pout-Folio, an American periodical work, 
published by Messrs. Bradford and Inskeep, of Philadelphia, was written by the 
author of American Ornithology* , during a late journey in search of new subjects 
for his work. We are confident that every reader will be interested and gratified 
bv the novelty of the scenery and incidents introduced in this simple and, in some 
parts, affecting account. Captain Lewis, the circumstances of whose tragical 
end are detailed by him, is not wholly unknown in this country. He was the 
companion of Captain Clarke, who, under the patronage of the American govern- 
ment, performed an expedition to explore the western region of the American 
territories. We understand that the narrative of this long-expected tour is now 
in a state of forwardness for publication, in America, under the direction of an 
editor of eminent abilities ; and, from the entire originality of the matter, it will 
no doubt prove highly interesting to the British public. 



Natchez, Mis&isippi Tcr., 
May 28, 1811. 

Gentlemen, 

About three weeks ago, 
when I wrote you from Nashville, 
I was on the point of setting out 
for St. Louis ; but being detain- 
ed by constant and heavy rains, 
and induced by other considera- 
tions, I abandoned the idea, and 
prepared for a journey through the 
wilderness. A thousand hobgoblins 
were, however, conjured up to dis- 
suade me from going alone; but I 
weighed all these matters in my own 
mind ; and attributing a great deal 
to vulgar fears and exaggerated 
reports, I equipt myself for the at- 
tempt. I rode an excellent horse, 
on whom I could depend ; I had a 
loaded pistol in each pocket, a 
loaded musket belted across my 
shoulder, a pound of gunpowder in 
my flask, and five pounds of shot in 
my belt. I bought some biscuit 
and dried beef; and on Friday morn- 
ing, May 4, 1 left Nashville. About 
half-a-mile from town I observed a 
poor negro with tzzo wooden legs, 
building himself a cabin in the 
woods. Supposing that this journey 
might afford you and my friends 



some amusement, I kept a particu- 
lar account of the various occur- 
rences, and shall transcribe some of 
the most interesting, omitting every 
thing relative to my ornithological 
excursions and discoveries as more 
suitable for anotheroccasion. Eleven 
miles from Nashville I came to the 
Great Ilarpath, a stream of about 
fifty yards, which was running with 
great violence. I could not disco- 
ver the entrance of the ford, owing 
to the rain and inundations. There 
was no time to be lost, I plunged 
in, and almost immediately my 
horse swimming, 1 set his head 
aslant the current, and being strong, 
he soon landed me on the other side. 
As the weather was warm, I rode in 
my wet clothes without any incon- 
venience. The country to-day was 
a perpetual succession of steep hills 
I and low bottoms ; I crossed ten or 
twelve large creeks, one of which 
swam my horse y where he was near 
being entangled among some bad 
drift wood. Now and then a soli- 
tary farm opened from the woods, 
where the negro children were run- 
ning naked about the yards. I also 
passed along the north side of a high 



* Of this publication, which, independently of its intrinsic interest, is a creditable specimen 
of tlie progress of the arts and literature on the other side of the Atlantic, four volumes have 
already appeared. The only copies of this beautiful work yet imported, may be had of Mr. 
Ackermanu, 101, Strand. 



TRAVELS IN NORTH AMERICA. 



*a 



hill, where the whole limber bad 
been prostrated by some terrible 
hurricane. I lodged this night in 
a miner's, who told me he had been 
engaged in forming no less than thir- 
teen companies for hunting mines, 
all of whom had left him. I advised 
him to follow his (arm as the surest 
vein of ore he could work. IScxi 
day (Saturday) I first observed the 
cane growing, which increased un- 
til the whole woods were full of it. 
The road this day winded along the 
high ridges of mountains that di- 
vide the waters of the Cumberland 
from those of the Tenessee. I pass- 
ed few houses to-day ; but met se- 
veral parties of boatmen returning 
from Natchez and New-Orleans : 
who gave me such an account of 
the road, and the difficulties they 
had met with, as served to stiffen 
my resolution to be prepared for 
every thing. These men were as 
dirty as Hottentots; their dress, a 
shirt and trowsers of canvas, black, 
greasy, and sometimes in tatters ; 
the skin burnt wherever exposed to 
the sun ; each with a budget, wrapt 
up in an old blanket ; their beards, 
eighteen days old, added to the sin- 
gularity of their appearance, which 
was altogether savage. These peo- 
ple came from the various tributary 
streams of the Ohio, hired at forty 
or fifty dojlars a trip, to return 
back at their own ex pence. Some 
had upwards of eight hundred miles 
to travel. When they come to a 
stream that is unfordable, they coast 
it for a fallen tree: if that cannot 
be had, they enter with their bud- 
gets on their heads, and when they 
lose bottom, drop it on their shoul- 
ders, and take to swimming. They 
have sometimes fourteen or fifteen 
of such streams to pass in a day, 



and morasses of several miles b\ 
length, that I have never seen 
equalled in any country. 1 lodged 
this night in one Dobbins's, where 
ten or twelve of these men lay on 
the floor. As (hey scrambled up 
I in the morning, they very generally 
complained of lving unwell, for 
i which th<'y gave an odd reason, 
; lying xailhin doors, if being ihc first 
of fifteen nights they had been so 
indulged, ^cxt morning (Sunday) 
1 rode six miles to a man's of ll\c 
name of Grinder, where our poor 
friend Lewis perished. la the same 
room where he expired, Ifo:>k down 
from Mrs. Grinder the particulars 
of that melancholy event, \>hieh 
affected me extremely. This house 
or cabin is 72 miles from Nashville, 
and is the last white man's as you 
'•nter the Indian country. Gover- 
nor Lewis, she said, came Uhtc 
about sunset, alone, and enquired if 
he could stay for the night; and, 
alighting, brought his saddle into 
the house. He was dressed in a 
loose gown, white, striped with 
blue. On being asked if lie came 
alone, he replied that there were 
two seivants behind, who would 
soon be up. He called for some 
spirits, and drank a very little. 
When the servants arrived, one of 
[ whom was a negro, he enquired for 
I his powder, saying he was sure he 
j had some powder in a canister. 
: The servant gave no distinct reply, 
and Lewis, in the mean while,, 
i walked backwards and forwards be- 
1 fore the door, talking to himself. 
I Sometimes, she said, he would seem 
| as if he were walking up to her; 
and would suddenly wheel rou:i(' 3 
and walk back as fast as he could. 
Supper being ready he sat down, 
but had eaten only a lew moul! . 
L 2 



r* 



TRAVELS IV NORTH AMERICA. 



when lie started up, speaking (o 
himself in a violent manner. Ai 
these times, she says, she observed 
his face to flush as if it had come 
on him in a fit. He lighted his 
pipe, and drawing a chair to the 
door sat down, saying to Mrs. Grin- 
der, in a kind tone of voice, " Ma- 
dam, tit is is a very pleasant even- 
ing." He smoked for some time, 
but quitted his seat and traversed 
the yard as before. He again sat 
down to his pipe, seemed again 
composed, and casting his eyes 
wishfully towards the west, ob- 
served what a sweet evening it was. 
Mrs. Grinder was preparing a bed 
for him ; but he said he would sleep 
on the floor, and desired the ser- 
vant to bring tiie bear skins and 
buffaloe robe, which were immedi- 
ately spread out for him; and it 
being now dusk the woman went off 
to the kitchen, and the two men to 
the barn, which stands about two 
hundred yards off. The kitchen is 
only a few paces from the room 
where Lewis was, and the woman 
being considerably alarmed by the 
behaviour of her guest, could not 
sleep, but listened to him walking 
backwards and forwards, she thinks, 
for several hours, and talking aloud, 
as she said, " like a lawyer." She 
then heard the report of a pistol, 
and something fall heavily on the 
floor, and the words " O Lord !" 
Immediately afterwards she heard 
another pistol, and in a few minutes 
she heard him at her door calling 
out, " O madam ! give me some 
water, and heal my wounds." The 
logs being open and un plastered, 
she saw him stagger back and fall 
against a stump that stands between 
the kitchen and room. He crawled 
for some distance, raised himself by 



the side of a tree, where he sat 
about a minute. He once more got 
to the room ; afterwards he came to 
the kitchen-door, butdid not speak; 
she then heard him scraping the 
bucket with a gourd for water; but 
it appears that this cooling element 
was denied the dying man ! As 
soon as day broke, and not before, 
the terror of the woman having 
permitted him to remain fur two 
hours in this most deplorable situa- 
tion, she sent two of her children 
to the barn, her husband not being 
at home, to bring the servants : and 
on going in they found him lying 
on the bed. He uncovered liis side 
and shewed them where the bullet 
had entered ; a piece of the fore- 
head was blown off, and had ex- 
posed the brains, without having 
bled much. He begged they Avould 
take his rifle, and blow out his 
brains, and he would give them all 
the money he had in his trunk. He 
often said, M I am no coward; but 
I am so strong, so hard to die." 
He be<rfrcd the servant not to be 
afraid of him, for he would not 
hurt him. He expired in about 
two hours, or just as the sun rose 
above the trees. He lies buried 
close by the common path, with a 
few loose rails thrown over his 
grave. I gave Grinder money to 
to put a post fence round it, to shel- 
ter it from the hogs and from the 
wolves ; and he gave me his written 
promise he would do it. I left this 
place in a very melancholy mood, 
which was not much allayed by the 
prospect of the gloomy and savage 
wilderness which I was just entering 
alone. 

My thoughts dwelt with sad, but 
unavailing regret on the fate of my 
unfortunate friend : but I AYas rous- 



TRAVELS IN NORTH AMF.rtlCA. 



7fl 



rd from this melancholy reverie by || below a long island laid down in 



the roaring of Bnffaloe river, which 
J forded with (considerable difficulty. 

J pa ssed I wo or 1 h ree sol i ( a ry India its' 
huts in the course of the day, with 



your small map. A growth of canes 
of twenty and thirty feel high, co- 
vers the low bottoms : and these cane 
swamps are the most gloomy and 



a few acres of open land at each, s> desolate looking places imaginable. 



but so wretchedly cultivated thai 
they just make out to raise corn 
enough to keep in existence. They 
pointed me out the distances by 
holding up their fingers. This is 
the country of the Chickasaws, 
though erroneously laid down in 
some maps as thai of the Cherokees. 
J slept Ihis night in one of their 
huts; the Indians spread a deer- 



I hailed for the boat as long as it 
was light, without effect; I then 
sought out a place to encamp, kin- 
dled a large fire, stripped the canes 
for my horse, eat a bit of supper, 
and lay down to sleep, listening to 
the owls and the Chuck' Witts-Wi- 
doze, a kind of JJltip-poor-JVilly 
that is very numerous here. I got 
up several times during the night, 



skin for me on the floor, I made a ' to recruit my fire, and see how my 



pillow of my portmanteau, and slept 
tolerably well ; the old Indian laid 
himself down near me. On Mon- 
day morning I rode fifteen miles, and 
stopped at an Indian's to feed my 
horse. The sight of my peroquet 
brought the whole family around 
me. The women are generally 
naked from the middle upwards; 
and their heads, in many instances, 
being rarely combed, look like a 
large mop; they have a yard or two I not until near eleven that it made 
of blue cloth wrapt round by way its appearance. I was so enraged 



horse did ; and, but for the gnats, 
should have slept tolerably well. 
These gigantic woods have a singu- 
lar effect by the light of a large fire ; 
the whole scene being circumscribed 
by impenetrable darkness, except 
in front, where every leaf is strong- 
ly defined and deeply shaded. In 
the morning I hunted until about 
six, when I again renewed my 
shoutings for the boat, and it was 



of petticoat, that reaches to their 
knees; the boys were generally 
naked, except a kind of bag of blue 
cloth by way of fig-leaf. Some of 
the women have a short jacket with 



at this delaj-, that, had I not been 
cumbered with baggage, I believe 
I should have ventured to swim it. 
I vented my indignation on the 
owner, who is a half-breed, fhreat- 



sleeves drawn over theirnaked body, ; ening to publish him in the papers, 
and the ragof a blanket is a general mid advise every traveller I met to 



appendage. I met to-day two offi- 
cers of the U. S. armj', who gave 
me a more intelligent account of the 
road than I had received. I passed 
through many bad swamps to-day; 
and about five in the evening came 
to the banks of the Tenessec, which 
was swelled with the rains, and Is 
about half a mile wide thirty miles 
below the muscle shoals, and just 



take the upper ferry. This man 
charges one dollar for man and 
horse, and thinks, because he is a 
chief, he may do in this way what 
he pleases. The country now as- 
sumed a new appearance; no brush 
wood — no fallen or rotten timber ; 
one could see a mile through the 
woods, which were covered with 
high grass fit for mowing. These 



Vo 



JRAVELS IN NORTH AMERICA. 



woods arc burnt every spring, and 
thus are kept so remarkably clean 
that they look like the most elegant 
noblemen's parks. A profusion of 
flowers, altogether new to me, and 
some of them very elegant, present- 
ed themselves to my view as I rode 
along. This must be a heavenly 
place for the botanist. The most 
noticeable of these flowers was a kind 
of Sweet William of all tints, from 
white to the deepest crimson. A 
superb thistle, the most beautiful 1 
bad ever seen ; a species of passion 
flower, very beautiful ; a stately 
plant of the sunflower family— the 
button of the deepest orange, and 
the radiating petals bright carmine, 
the breadth of the flower about four 
inches ; a large white flower like a 
deer's tail; great quantities of the 
sensitive plant, that shrunk instantly 
on being touched, covered the 
ground in some places. Almost 
every flower was new to me, except 
the Carolina pink-root, and Coluin- 
bo, which grow in abundance on 
every side. At Bear creek, which 
is a large and rapid stream, I first 
observed the Indian boys with their 
blow-gi/fts. These are tubes of 
cane seven feet long, and perfectly 
straight when well made. The ar- 
rows are made of slender slips of 
cane, twisted and straightened be- 
fore the fire, and covered for seve- 
ral inches at one end with the down 
of thistles in a spiral form, so as 
just to enter the tube. By a puff 
they can send these with such vio- 
lence as to enter the body of a par- 
tridge twenty yards ofF. I set se- 
veral of them a hunting birds by 
promises of reward, but not one of 
them could succeed. I also tried 
some of them myself, but found 
them generally defective in straight- 



ness. I met six parties of boatmen 
to-day, and many straggling Indi- 
ans, and encamped about sun-set 
near a small brook, where I shot a 
turkey ; and on returning to my 
fire found four boatmen, who stayed 
with mc all night, and helped to 
pick the bones of the turkey. In 
the morning I heard them gobbling 
all round me, but not wishing to 
leave my horse, and having no great 
faith ia the honesty of my guests, I 
proceeded on my journey. 

This day (Wednesday) I passed 
through the most horrid swamps I 
had ever seen. These arc covered 
with a prodigious growth of canes 
and high woods, which, together, 
shut out almost the whole light of 
day for miles. The banks of the 
deep and sluggish creeks that oc- 
cupy the center are precipitous, 
where 1 had often to plunge my 
horse seven feet down into a bed of 
deep clay up to his belly, from 
which nothing but great strength 
and exertion could have rescued 
him ; the opposite shore was equally 
bad, and beggars all description. 
For an extent of several miles, on 
both sides these creeks, the darkness 
of night obscures every object 
around. On emerging from one of 
the worst of these I met General 
Wade Hampton, with two servants 
and a pack-horse, going, as he said, 
towards Nashville. I told him of 
the mud campaign immediately be- 
fore him : I was covered with mire 
and wet, and I thought he looked 
somewhat serious at the difficulties 
he was about to engage. He has 
been very sick lately. About half 
an hour before sunset, being with- 
in sight of the Indian's where I in- 
tended to lodge, the evening being 
perfectly clear and calm, I laid the 



TRAYEfcS IX NORTH AMERICA. 



77 



reins on my horse's neck, to listen to 
a mocking bird, (he first I had heard 
in the Western country, which, 
perched on the top of a dead tree 
before the door, was pouring out a 
torrent of melody. I think I never 
heard so excellent a performer. I 
had alighted, and was fastening my 
horse, when hearing the report ofa 
rifle immediately behind me, I look- 
ed up and saw the poor mockingbird 
fluttering to the ground. One of 
the savages had marked his eleva- 
tion, and barbarously shot him. J 
hastened over into the yard, and 
walking up to him, told him that 
was bad, very bad ; that this poor 
bird had come from a far distant 
country to sing to him, and that, in 
return, he had cruelly killed him. 
I told him that the Great Spirit was 
offended at such cruelty, and that 
he would lose many a deer for doing 
so. The old Indian, father-in-law 
tothe bird-killer, understanding, by 
the negro interpreter, what 1 said, 
replied, that when these birds come 
singing and making a noise all day 
near the house, somebody will sure- 
ty die — which is exactly what an 
old superstitious German, near 
Hampton in Virginia, once told me. 
This fellow had married the two 
eldest daughters of the old Indian, 
and presented one of them with the 
bird be hud killed. The next day 
I passed through the Chickasaw 
Big-tow/i) which stands on the high 
open plain that extends through 
their country, three or four miles in 
breadth, by fifteen in length. Here 
and there you perceive Lit tie groups 
of miserable huts, formed of sap- 
lings, and plastered with mod and 
clay ; about these are generally a 
few peach and plumb trees. Many 
ruins of others stand scattered about. 



and I question whether there were 
twenty inhabited huts within the 
whole range of view. The ground 
was red with strawberries, and the 
boatmen were seen in strangling 
parties feasting on them. Now and 
then a solitary Indian, wrapped in 
his blanket, passed sullen and silent. 
On this plain are beds of shells, of 
a large species of clam, some of 
which are almost entire. I this day 
stopped at the house ofa white man, 
who had two Indian wives, and a 
hopeful string of young savages, all 
in their fig-leaves ; not one of them 
could speak a word of English. 
This man was by birth a Virginian, 
and had been forty years among the 
Chickasaws. His countenance and 
manners were savage, and worse 
than Indian. I met many parlies 
of boatmen to-day, and crossed a 
number of bad swamps. The woods 
continued to exhibit the same open 
luxuriant appearance, and at night 
I lodged at a white man's, who has 
also two wives, and a numerous 
progeny of 3'oung savages. Here 
I met with a lieutenant of the U. S. 
army, anxiously enquiring lor Gen. 
Hampton. On Friday the same 
open woods continued ; I met seve- 
ral parties of Indians, and passed 
two or threo of their hamlets. At 
| one of these were two tires in the 
: yard, and at each eight or ten In* 
I dians, men and women, squat on 
the ground. In these hamlets there 
is generally one house bwilt of a cir- 
cular form, and plastered thickly 
all over without and within with 
clay. This they call h hot-house^ 
\ ami it is the general winter-quarters 
! of ihe hamlet in cold weather. Here 
they all kennel, and 1. ither. 

j window ner place for the smoke to 
i escape, it must be a sweet place 



TRAVELS IN NORTH AMERICA. 



while forty or fifty of them have it 
in occupancy. Round some of these 
hamlets were great droves of cattle, 
horses, and hogs. I lodged this 
night on the top of a hill far from wa- 
ter, and suffered sever* ly by thirst. 
On Saturday I passed a number 
of most execrable swamps, the wea- 
ther was extremely warm, and I had 
been attacked by something like the 
dysentery, which occasioned a con- 
stant burning thirst, and weakened 
me greatly. I stopped this day 
frequently to wash my head and 
throat in the water, to allay the 
burning thirst, and putting on my 
hat without wiping, received con- 
siderable relief from it. Since cross- 
ing the Tenessee the woods have 
been interspersed with pine, and the 
soil has become more sandy. This 
day I met a Captain Hughes, a tra- 
veller, on his return from Santa Fee. 
My complaint increased so much, 
that I could scarcely sit on horse- 
back; and all night my mouth and 
throat were parched with a burning 
thirst and fever. On Sunday I 
bought some raw eggs, which I ate ; 
I repeated the dose at mid-day and 
towards evening, and found great 
benefit from this simple remedy. I 
enquired all along the road for fresh 
eggs, and for nearly a week made 
them almost my sole food, till I 
completed my cure. The water in 
these cane swamps is little better 
than poison ; and under the heat of 
a burning sun, and the fatigues of 
travelling, it is difficult to repress 
the urgent calls of thirst. On the 
Wednesday following, I was assail- 
ed by a tremendous storm of rain, 
wind, and lightning, until I and my 
horse were both blinded with the 
deluge, and unable to go on. I 
sought the first most open place, 



and, dismounting, stood for half an 
hour under the most profuse heaven- 
ly shower-bath lever enjoyed. The 
roaring of the storm was terrible ; 
several trees around me were broken 
off and torn up by the roots, and 
those that stood were bent almost to 
the ground : limbs of trees, of se- 
veral hundred weight, flew past, 
within a few yards of me, and I 
was astonished how I escaped. I 
would rather take my chance in a 
field of battle than in such a tornado 
' again. 

On the 14th day of my journey, 
at noon, I arrived at this place, 
having overcome every obstacle, 
alone, and without being acquainted 
with the country ; and what sur- 
prised the boatmen more, without 
ichiskej/. On an average I met from 
j forty to sixty boatmen every day 
I returning from this place and New 
Orleans. The Chickasaws are a 
J friendly, inoffensive people; and the 
j Chactaws, though more reserved, 
! are equally harmless. Both of them 
I treated me with civility, though 1. 
I several times had occasion to pass 
through their camps, where many of 
them were drunk. The peroquet 
which I carried with me was a con- 
tinual fund of amusement to all ages 
of these people ; and, as they 
crowded around to look at it, gave 
me an opportunity of studying their 
physiognomies without breach of 
good manners. 

In thus hastily running over the 
particulars of this journey, I am 
obliged to omit much that would 
amuse and interest you ;~ but my 
present situation, a noisy tavern, 
crowded in every corner, even in 
the room where J write, with the 
sons of riot and dissipation, prevents 
me from enlarging on particulars-,. 



TRAVELS IN NORTH AMERICA. 



79 



I could also liave wished to give 
you some account of this place, and 
of the celebrated Missisippi, of 
which you have heard so much. 
On these subjects, however, I can 
at present only offer you the follow- 
ing slight sketch, taken the morning 
after my arrival here. 

The best view of this place and 
surrounding scenery, is from the 
old Spanish fort on the south side 
of the town, about a quarter of a 
mile distant. From this high point, 
looking up the river, Natchez lies 
on your right, a mingled group of 
green trees and white and red houses, 
occupying an uneven plain, much 
washed into ravines, rising as it 
recedes from the bluff or high pre- 
cipitous bank of the river. There 
is, however, neither steeple, cupola, 
nor distinguished object to add in- 
terest to its appearance. The coun- 
try beyond it to the right is thrown 
up into the same irregular knolls; 
and at the distance of a mile, in 
the same direction, you have a 
peep of some cultivated farms, 
bounded by the general forest. On 
your left you look down, at a depth 
of two or three hundred (cdf on the 
river, winding majestically to the 
south ; the intermediate space exhi- 
biting wild perpendicular precipices 
of brown earth. This part of the 
river and shore is the general ren- 
dezvous of all the arks or Kentucky 
boats, several hundreds of which 
are at present lying moored there, 
loaded with the produce of the 
thousand shores of this noble river. 
The busy multitudes below present 



a perpetually varying picture of 
industry: and the noise and uproar, 
softened by the distance, with the 
continual crowing of Ihe poultry, 
with which many of these arks are 
filled, produce cheerful and exhi- 
larating ideas. The majestic Mis-i- 
sippi, swelled by his ten thousand 
tributary streams of a pale brown 
colour, half a mile wide, and spot- 
fed with trunks of frees, that show 
the different threads of the current 
and its numerous eddies, bears his 
depth of wafer past in silent gran- 
deur. Seven gun-boats, anchored 
at equal distances along the stream, 
with their ensigns displayed, add 
to the effect. A few scattered houses 
are seen on the low opposite shore, 
where a narrow strip of cleared land 
exposes the high gigantic trunks of 
some deadened timber that bound 
the woods. The whole country 
beyond the Missisippi, from south 
round to west, and north, presents 
to the eye one universal level ocean 
of forest, bounded only by the hori- 
zon. So perfect is this vast level, 
that not a leaf seems to rise above 
the plain, as if shorn by the hands 
of heaven. At this moment, while 
I write, a ferrific thunderstorm, 
with all its towering assemblage of 
black alpine clouds, discharging 
lived lightning in every direction, 
overhangs this vast level, and gives 
i magnificence and sublime effect 
to fhe whole. 

Farewell ! And God bless you, 
my dear friends ! 

Alexander Wilson. 
To Messrs. Bradford 
ty Ivskeep. 



No. XLIV. Vol. VIII. 



M 



so 



THE MODERN SPECTATOR. 

No. XVII. 

For truth I'm like a lion, hold ; 
But a base lie I never told : 
Indeed, I know, too many a sinner 
Will lie by dozens for a dinner; 
But from the days of earliest youth, 
I've worshiped and I've practis'd truth ; 
Nay, many a stormy, bitter strife 
I've had with iny dear loving wife, 
Who often s.iys she mght have seen 
Her hushaml a fine«pompous dean ; 
Indeed, she sometimes thinks her spouse 
Might have a mitre on his brows, 
If putting scruples out of view, 
He'd do as other people do. 
No, 1 will never lie, nor fawn, 
]S'or flatter, to be rob'd in lawn. 

The Tour of Dr. Syntax in Search of the Picturesque. 



Mv correspondents are become 
bo numerous, thai, in order to prove 
my impartiality in the selection of 
tlieir respective communications, J 
take them from the drawer of my 
writing-table as chance gives them 
to my hand : and I trust that the 
paper which I have now drawn from 
what I may consider as a literary 
wheel, will not be contemplated as 
a blank by my readers. 

Cadocan-Place. 

Mr. Spectator, 

With your universal know- 
ledge of men, books, and things, you 
cannot but be acquainted with the 
proverb, that Truth is not to be 
spoken at all times. Now, I have 
a neighbour who, under the sanc- 
tion of this adage, and with a curi- 
ous notion of what he calls supreme 
discretion, never speaks it at all. 
Hence it is, that not one of his ac- 
quaintance has a certain knowledge 
of who he is, what he has, or how 
lie lives, lie is a person of good 
manners, of quiet disposition and 
unassuming demeanour ; and, if you 
chuse to believe him, he knows 
every body and every thing ; and 
no topic of conversation can be in- 



troduced, no measures canvassed, 
no character examined, no opinion 
investigated, which docs not give 
him an opportunity of hinting at his 
own importance by some quiet de- 
viation from truth. If you speak 
of the war, he has traced a plan for 
the conducting of its operations, 
which must bring it to an happy 
issue, if ministers should pay that 
attention to his counsels which he 
is convinced they so well deserve. 
If you mention any public measure 
in agitation, he is certain of its drift, 
and could at that moment state its 
effects ; but the time is not yet ar- 
rived when it would be prudent, 
for reasons which he is not at liberty 
to reveal, to make the communica- 
tion. That he knows something 
of human nature, and what is em- 
phatically called life, cannot be de- 
nied ; and he applies this knowledge, 
with no small skill, in his assents 
to or dissents from the information 
of others : but both in the one and 
the other, he has always some asser- 
tion, or suggestion, or allusion ready 
to support his own superiority, in 
which truth is never considered as 
a necessary ingredient. Speak of a 



rill - . MODCll-V SI'ECTATOH. 



SI 



beautiful young woman, and he has m who baa been the subject of llic 
an instant knowledge of some secret ji conversation, than any one may ob- 
art she uses to aid her attractions, tain by the half-guinea which gains 
or of some means she raightemploy ; admittance to the pit of the Opera. 
to increase them, if she had not the He has the same mode of pro- 
supreme good sense to be contented ceeding with respect to public men 
with the unassisted bounties of na- of all denominations: whelherthey 
ture. Hit should be observed as a are statesmen or men of fashion ; 
matter of astonishment, thai a per- ; : whether they are members of the 
son enriched with so many personal Privy Council or the Four-in-IIand 
charms should not yet have been Club; whether (hey are elevated 1o 
devoted to Hymen, he would have ' power by their connections or their 
a ready hint tosuggeston theocca- ; virtues, or to the gallows by their 
sion, — that something besides beau- vices and their crimes. He pre- 
ty was necessary to influence a sen- lends nol to have any means of in- 



siblc man to engage in so serious a 
concern as that of marriage; or that 
a secret penchant of her own, at 



formation which are not possessed 
by every independent man of ex- 
perience and observation. lint great. 



which he could guess, was probably men are not always on their guard, 

the cause that she had refused more and in the hours of private friend - 



than one offer, and had influenced 
her to conduct herself towards others 
so as to check their meditated pro- 
positions; nor would he finish his 
account without hinting, that he 
could name all the parties. If a 
doubt should be expressed, that his 
opinion might be erroneous, he has 
recourse to a ver\- general observa- 
tion, but accompanied with an air 
and a smile that betoken a perfect 
confidence in his authorities, — that 
lie is very willing to leave the dif- 
ference of sentiment on the subject 



ship, in the How of soul, with those 
whom they have long known and 
loved, they do sometimes unbosom 
themselves, perhaps, incautiously; 
but no punishment would be Suffi- 
ciently severe for any one who 
should betray the accidental confi- 
dence. Such an opinion would be 
given with those corresponding 
looks and gestures, which might 
beget a suspicion, that such com- 
munications hid been made to him, 
though he had never been nearer 
a minister of state than in the crowd 



to be determined by time, ff a bet II of a drawing-room. If it should 
should be offered, he never lays be said, that Lord Hawke, or Lord 
wagers, which generally arise from Clinton, or Sir Charles Bamfylde, 
irritation, and prove nothing but contended for pre-eminence in tin' 



the opinion of those who make 
them : it is not impossible that he 
may be in the wrong, but he rather 
feels the expectation, that a period 
will come when the gentleman who 
proposes the bet, will thank him for 
not having accepted it. Thus he 
displays himselt, and probably has 
no other acquaintance with the ludy 



club which has been just mentioned, 
he would probably answer, without 
pretending to any knowledge as a 
coachman, " 1 have reason to be- 
lieve, that if those two noble lords 
and the veteran baronet were to be 
seriously questioned on the subject, 
they would very liberally concede 
(he superiority of throwing u whip 
M 2 



82 



THE MODERN SPEC1ATOK. 



and managing four horses in band, 
to Mr. Buxton." This would be 
given with an air and tone as if he 
were in the habits of intimacy with 
these noble and fashionable chari- 
oteers, though he knows no more 
of them than the rest of the mob 
who have assembled to see their pa- 
rade in Cavendish-square. 

He has a general knowledge of 
the map of the Peninsula ; but talks 
on the subject of the campaigns 
there as if he had travelled through 
every part of the couulry. How- 
ever, in the hurry of one of his most 
confidential descriptions, he, the 
other day, mistook Salamanca for 
Seville, and after lie had made out 
his story, as if he had been on the 
spot, one of those quiet, well-in- 
formed, pleasant men happened to 
be present, who have no objection 
to listen patiently to the erroneous 
accounts of others, in order to en- 
py the pleasure of setting them 
right, and, as it may turn out, in 
a good-humoured way, of exposing 
them. This was done with the 
most perfect perspicuity and effect ; 
when my neighbour, who is never 
so indiscreet as to venture upon con- 
tradiction, after a few minutes of 
apparent recollection, only observ- 
ed, that his memory had seldom or 
never played him such a trick be- 
fore ; but when a head, as was the 
case with his, was so crowded with 
thoughts, an occasional confusion 
was by no means surprising. In- 
deed, it astonished him that it did 
not oftener happen. 

His acquaintance once lost sight 
of him for six months, and they 
began to suspect, that, from some 
untoward accident, they should see 
him no more. At length, however, 
he reappeared, with an air of great 



mystery ; but it was not long be- 
fore he insinuated, by certain hints 
and inuendos, that he had been em- 
ployed by government in a secret 
mission of great consequence at a 
foreign court. We heard of no- 
thing for some time but the import- 
ance of diplomacy, the great abili- 
ties which the dicharge of its du- 
ties requires, the impolitic inatten- 
tion of the court of Great Britain 
to that department, and the losses 
which the country had sustained 
from its inferiority in negotiation. 
Though in a late instance which 
he could name, if it were not be- 
traying secrets, ministers had act- 
ed with more circumspection, and 
would soon experience the advan- 
tages of it. 

He sometimes suddenly appears 
in deep mourning ; when he will 
complain, that the antiquity of his 
family is very troublesome to him, 
as it occasions that relationship 
with so many houses of distinction, 
as hardly ever to allow him, if he 
did not sometimes shirk the busi- 
ness, to indulge in a coloured coat. 

Mention cards and gaming, and 
it is not to be conceived the money 
he foolishly lost when he was a 
young man, and it is owing to that 
circumstance that he wears the pre- 
sent appearance of moderate for- 
tune. But he begins now to see 
land ; his estate is recovering fast 
from its burthens ; and he hopes, 
by a very large fall of timber, and 
the expiration of leases, to be in a 
very tew years restored to his ori- 
ginal wealth and consequence, and 
that he shall again inherit the scat 
of his ancestors in all the splendour 
to which it had been accustomed* 
till his infatuation had disqualified 
him from visiting it. 



TIU: MODERN SPECTATOR. 



S3 



Speak of music, lie lias heard 
every great performer in Europe; 
and be has such a manuscript collec- 
tion as w ill astonish and delight t lie 

hot judges of that charming sci- 
ence, when lie shall find it conve- 
nient to offer it (o (heir attention. 
By a very extraordinary circum- 
stance, he came into the possession 
of some compositions of Handel, 
which have been hitherto unknown, 
and will give accumulation of fame 
to that unrivalled master. In short, 
Mr. Spectator, there would he no 
end of my history, if I were to tell 
all I know of the extraordinary ha- 
bits of this man. 1 shall add bul 
one more item to my catalogue, 
•which is, that, having mentioned to 
him the merit of your essays, he 
gave me one of his intelligible hints, 
that he could name a gentleman 
whose talents were very useful to 
you in the composition of them. 

There is certainly nothing mali- 
cious, or, as to its effects, what may 
be considered as wicked, in this 
eternal deviation from truth, with 
which this neighbour of mine feeds 
his vanity; hut this kind of decep- 
tion (for the good-nature of his 
friends encourages him to believe 
that he has all the credit lie can 
wish) is, after all, to give it the 
mildest title, a most contemptible 
folly ; and, if there was a court es- 
tablished for the punishing of lies, 
though he might not be convicted 
of a capital crime, he would be sen- 
tenced, at least, to transportation 
for life. 

As there may be fulshoods with- 
out lies, so there may he lies with- 
out literal or direct felshood ; as 
when the grammatical signification 
of a sentence is different from the 
popular and customary meaning. It 



is the wilful deceit that makes the 
lie; and we wilfully deceive when 
our expressions are not true in 
(he sense in which we believe the 
hearer apprehends them, and this 
may be done by actions as well as 
words : a nod of assent, a negative 
shake of the head, the pointing your 
finder in a wrong direction, when a 
traveller enquires the road to any 
particular place, or if a single wo- 
man puts a ring on her finger to ac- 
quire the appearance of being a 
married woman; for, to all moral 
purposes, speech and action are the 
same, speech being no more than a 
certain mode of action : but it is the 
mural tendency of deceit which 
makes it that kind of criminal fals- 
hood which we emphatically deno- 
minate a lie. 

General, abstract truth is a bless- 
ing of the first order: it is the eye 
of reason, by which is discerned (he 
fitness or unfitness of things, which 
enables man to be what he ought to 
be, and to do what he ought to do ; 
in short, it is a primary guide in 
attaining the end of his being. The 
things it imports a man to be ac- 
quainted with, and the knowledge of 
which is essentially necessary to his 
happiness, nie not, perhaps, very 
numerous; hu(, whatever their num- 
ber may he, they are his right, and 
he ought to claim (hem, wherever 
he finds them, and of which he can- 
not be deprived without the most 
decided injustice, since they are 
benefits common to all, and wh ise 
communication docs not deprive 
him who imparts (hem of their en- 
joyment. As to truths which are 
of no use. neither for instruction nor 
practice, (hey cannot he considered 
as benefits ; and since (he right is 
founded' 1 !; their utility alone, where. 



84 



THE MODERN SPECTATOR. 



there is no possible utility, there 
can be no right. In moral order 
nothing is useless, anymore than in 
physical order. Nothing can be a 
right which is good for nothing; to 
acquire that title, it must be useful, 
or be capable of being rendered so. 
Thus a truth, in this view of it, 
must regard justice, and it is pro- 
faning its sacred name to apply it to 
vain matters, whose existence is in- 
different, and whose knowledge is 
useless to all. Truth, therefore, di- 
vested of every kind of possible 
utility, cannot be a duty; and, con- 
sequently, he who conceals or dis- 
guises it, does not lie. 

False speaking is lying only in 
the intention of deceiving; and the 
intention of deceiving, far from be- 
ing always joined to that of doing 
injury, has sometimes a beneficial 



struction that may be derived from 
the fables of iEsop and Pilpay, be- 
cause birds and beasts are made to 
speak the language of human be- 
ings, deserves to share in the laugh- 
ter which has been so frequently 
bestowed upon a king of Spain, 
who, when he understood that Te- 
lemachus had been written by a bi- 
shop, seriously and solemnly de- 
clared, that if any one of his pre- 
lates were to compose such a parcel 
of lies as that book contained, he 
would tear the mitre from his head, 
and the crosier from his hand, tho r 
the whole church of Rome were to 
oppose him. For parables, which 
are moral allegories, we have the 
authority of the Scriptures them- 
selves. Nor are tales, or the ludi- 
crous embellishments of story, cal- 
culated to create innocent mirth, li- 



tendency. But to render a lie in- able to rigid imputation. Neither 



nocent, it is not sufficient that there 
is no intention of injury, there must j 
also be a certainty that the error 
into which we lead those we speak 
to cannot h urt them, or any one else, 
in any manner whatsoever. And 
here is the difficulty to associate 
what is a lie with the idea of perfect 
innocence. It can only be done, ; 
■with satisfaction to our moral sensi- 
bility, by changing the terms. To 
lie to one's own advantage is a 
cheat ; to lie to another's is a fraud ; 
to lie to do harm is a calumny, 
which is the worst of all lies ; but 
to lie without profit or prejudice to 
ourselves or others, is not lying, it 
is fiction. 

Fiction, which has a moral ob- 
ject in view, as in fables or apo- 
logues, is no more than the disguis- 
ing useful truths under agreeable 
and sensible forms ; and he who 
should refuse his children the in- 



are the complimentary forms in 
which letters are addressed and sub- 
scribed, or a servant's denying his 
master, to be misinterpreted as 
chargeable falshoods. When a pri- 
soner, arraigned at the bar, though 
conscious of his guilt, pleads not 
guilty, can he be justly accused of 
a criminal falshood, when anxious 
to prolong life to atone for his past 
errors by future repentance and re- 
formation? In a high state of ci- 
vilization, the decorums and ele- 
gancies of polished life, the forms 
of speech, in which every one knows 
that less is meant than meets the 
ear, are not to be tried and analized 
by literal precision and grammatical 
construction. These are allowable 
fictions, established by custom, and 
sanctioned by the saint and by the 
sage. In such instances, no con- 
fidence is destroyed, because none 
was reposed ; no promise to speak 



I 



BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF J. WOELFL. 



85 



the truth is violated, because none 
was given, or understood to be 
given. 

I may liere appear, Mr. Specta- 
tor, as if I were, in some measure, 
justifying a practice which I have, 
in the former part of this paper, 
positively condemned; but 1 dis- 
claim snefa an intention. It must 
be a very superstitious regard for 
truth, that produces censure on 
those accidental deviations from it 
which arise out of passing occur- 
rences, which discretion may sug- 
gest, and humanity may consecrate; 
but 1 deprecate the habit of con- 



tinually indulging in fiction and 
exaggeration, however inoffensive, 
because I cannot but suspect, that 
the continual practice of telling 
white lies will necessarily lead to 
that of telling others of a darker 
complexion. U is this habit in my 
neighbour which has occasioned, 
my introduction to you ; and he is 
a person, in every other respect, of 
pleasant, social qualities. I am not 
without the hope that this paper 
may fall in his way ; and my sin- 
cere wish is, that he may read it ami 
reform. Your obedient, humble 
i servant, Yerax. 



BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF MR. J. WOELFL, THE 
GERMAN COMPOSER, 

JVho died in London, May 21, 1812. 



Conformably to a promise 
which the want of proper materials 
prevented us from fulfilling in our 
last number, we now proceed to 
give a brief memoir of the life of 
the German composer and virtuoso 
above named, whose death we had 
announced in our article of musical 
intelligence. Our readers, we can 
without presumption flatter our- 
selves, will probably find that they 
have lost nothing by the short 

delay. The following pages are ! ; of the archbishop, like many of his 
little more than a free translation of countrymen, was passionately fond 



details, which, however interesting 
to persons well versed in music, or 
to a countryman of Woelfl, we fear 
would not possess an equal claim 
to the attention of the major portion 
of the readers of the Jlcpository. 

Joseph Woelfl, the subject of 
this memoir, was born at Salzburg, 
the capital of the late archbishopric 
of the same name in the south of 
Germany, in the year 1772. His 
father, a civil officer in the service 



an ably written biographical sketch 
we were favoured with by a German 
gentleman, whose long acquaintance 
with the deceased vouches for its 
authenticity ; and whose indulgence 
we have to request, wherever it may 
appear that, in spite of our best 
endeavours, we have failed in pre- 
serving the spirit and elegance of 
the German original, or where we 
have ventured to abbreviate some 



of music, or rather music-mad. No 
wonder, then, that a principal por- 
tion of young Woelfl's education 
was engrossed by the fa( hcr's hobby, 
and with such eminent success that, 
in his seventh year, he was capable 
of playing a violin concerto in 
public: nor v ill it appear strange, 
that under such promising indica- 
tions of future greatness, the good 
sense as well as the enthusiasm of 



86 



BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF J. WOELFL. 



the sire determined to devofe his 
offspring- to that career for ay hie!) 
nature seemed so liberally to have 
endowed him. Accordingly, while 
yet attending the college of the 
Jesuits, Woelfl was placed under 
the musical tuition of one of the 
greatest contrapuntists of Germany, 
the celebrated Michel Haydn, his 
townsman, whose sacred composi- 
tions are well known and appre- 
ciated in England. Under the 
guidance of such a master the ex- 
cellence of the pupil's genius deve- 
loped itself with rapid strides, not 
only in regard to the theory of 
music, but also in point of practical 
execution. On the piano-forte, to 
which instrument, on account of its 
harmonic superiority, he had, in 
preference to the violin, directed 
his chief study, he had arrived at 
so eminent a degree of proficiency, 
that, although but a lad, he gained 
the admiration of his countrymen, 
and even of his sovereign, in whose 
presence he had the honour of dis- 
playing his juvenile abilities. 

The father, who watched the pro- 
gress of his son's proficiency with 
enraptured pride, now thought of 
further means for improving his 
talent. At that time already re- 
sounded through Germany the fame 
of a man whose merits, or rather 
whose divine inspiration, now only 
begins to be fully acknowledged 
and understood in this country; a 
man whose strains, while thrilling 
to the heart of the elect, seem as if 
not of this world, as if borrowed 
from the concerts of superior spiri- 
tual beings; a man whose name will 
be held sacred and revered for ages 
to come by all who have a soul sus- 
ceptible of the sublime in harmony. 
Our readers, we trust, anticipate 



the name of the unrivalled com- 
poser we allude to, the author of 
Co si fan' tutte, Don Giovanni, the 
Requiem, &c. To Mozart it was 
that the father of Woelfl sent his 
son, in order to receive ihe finishing 
touch of harmonic instruction; and 
i the further favourable circumstance 
; of the master's being a native of the 
j same town with the pupil, added to 
| the extraordinary musical docility 
of the hitter, soon gained him the 
heart of a man whose friendship 
was as glowing and solid as his com- 
positions. Under Mozart, Woelfl 
studied some years ; with what suc- 
cess not only his works bespeak, but 
also the circumstance of Mozart 
himself recommending his disciple, 
at the age of eighteen, to the Polish 
Count Oginsky, to be, as it is called 
on the Continent, his Maestro di 
Capella, i. e. director of the count's 
musical establishment. This new 
office the subject of the present 
memoir held for several years, until, 
in 1794, Poland was involved in 
the last agonizing political struggle, 
which terminated its existence as a 
nation, and plunged many of its 
grandees into ruin. Among the 
latter was Count Oginsky. This 
circumstance, and the convulsed 
state of affairs which favoured no 
other music than that of drums 
and the roar of cannons, induced 
Woelfl to prepare for his departure; 
but ere he could accomplish his 
resolution, Warsaw was taken by 
storm, and the death-blow struck, 
against the independence of Poland. 
Among the Russian army which 
took possession of the capital, a 
great proportion of its officers, who 
arc known to be passionately fond 
of music, sought the company 
of Woelfl ; and their homage in- 



BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OP J. WOELFL. 



S7 



faced him to tarry another year in 
Warsaw. This protracled stay, 
however, although it added to his 
musical fame, certainly contributed 
very little to the improvement of 
his financial affairs. Whatever he 
gained by Ms play from the li- 
berality of the Russian officers, 
their skill in another sort of play 
enabled them to recover with in- 
terest. Woelfl, although a great 
master of billiards, and well versed 
in other mysteries of Hoylc, found 
his superiors in the Russian officers. 
More than once the sacrifices he 
offered at the shrine of the fickle 
"■oddess of chance exhausted his 
musical gains. In dilemmas like 
these, however, he had one never 
tailing resource to resort to. His 
notes at all times passed for current 
coin with his playmates. We are 
by no means speaking figuratively ; 
for whenever financial deficiencies 
prevented his playing with ready 
cash, Wocld was allowed, nay, 
solicited, to point a walz, minuet, 
a polonaise, or variations, whether 
ready made or merely promissory ; 
so that most of his mornings were 
assiduously employed in composing 
the movements he had lost, and 
given promissory notes for the night 
before. 

It may easily be imagined that 
this losing game would in time lose 
its attractions for our composer, 
and the famous partition of Poland 
in 1795, which left no further 
prospects to the exertions of our 
artist, induced him to return to 
Vienna. Here he remained for 
several years, and published vari- 
ous compositions, especially of the 
dramatic kind, among which the 
comic opera of The Head without 
the 3Ian gained the greatest ap- 
Xo. XLIV. Vol. VIII. 



plause. About this time his father 
died and left him some money, 
which, being principally vested in 
horses and good company, went as 
fast as both could drive. Another 
acquisition of a higher order was 
not more durable. His dramatic 
occupations introduced him to a 
handsome actress, whoaccompanied 
him to the hymeneal altar. But 
this species of accompaniment was 
not equally harmonious with others 
of his movements. The frequent 
counterpoints and discords which 
disfigured t heir matrimonial duct 
soon terminated in a fugue, by 
which both parties diverged in dit- 
fcrcnt directions by common con- 
sent ; his consort, with the offspring 
of their short union (a son, still 
alive, and whose absence the father 
deplored to his very dying mo- 
ments,) to a theatre at Frank- 
fort, and Woelfl on a journey, 
which he commenced in 1799, and 
in the course of which he visited 
the principal cities of Germany and 
Holland. Wherever he went, he 
surpassed the expectations which 
his fame as a piano-forte- player 
and a composer had excited ; and 
the first judges who heard him ac- 
knowledged, that, in rapidity of 
execution, complete mastery of the 
instrument, readiness of invention, 
and especially in the playing of 
voluntaries, he had no superior, if 
an equal. Innumerable traits, illus- 
trative of his skill, occurred at 
various cities where his abilities 
were put to the greatest trials. At 
Dresden, when he came to the 
rehearsal of a concert he had an- 
nounced, the piano-forte happened 
to stand half a note lower than the 
wind instruments. This unforeseen 
circumstance did not disconcert 
N 



8S 



BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF J. WOELFL, 



Woelfl. Although his concerto 
was set in the key of C, lie forth- 
with played it half a note higher, 
transposing it, as he went on, into 
the key of C seven sharps. 

At Mcntz, while giving a public 
concert, and just in the midst of a 
set of variations devised on the spot, 
and upon a subject presenled by one 
of the audience, the distant sound of 
a dozen drummers was heard gradu- 
ally approaching. As their round 
would lead them past under the 
windows of the concert-room, the 
company felt uneasy, anticipating 
an interruption in the performance 
to which they were listening with 
silent delight. But Woelfl's pre- 
sence or mind turned this untoward 
occurrence into a source of admira- 
tion towards him. As soon as he 
perceived (he approach of the 
drums, he caught the tempo and 
motivo of the martial rattle, made 
his theme gradually verge into a 
corresponding tempo di marcia, at 
first pianissimo, but continuing 
crescendo as the drums neared, 
fortissimo when they were at hand, 
and again diminuendo as they re- 
tired, terminating smorzando with 
the vanishing sound, and thus end- 
ing the performance. The applause 
which followed upon this ingenious 
and skilful manoeuvre of the artist 
would have drowned the noise of 
the drums, had they been in the 
room at that instant. 

During the three years which he 
spent in visiting the principal cities 
of the north of Europe, and dis- 
playing under enthusiastic applause 
his transcendent abilities, few pub- 
lications issued from his pen. It 
was only at Paris, where he arrived 
in 1801, that his talents as a com- 
poscrj, which had for some time lain 
dormant, were roused into activity. 



There he wrote probably his best 
works, among which his grand so- 
nata in C minor maintains, perhaps 
the highest rank. In Paris too, 
where the meritorious exertions of 
authors and composers, that devote 
their talents to the stage, are more 
than any where else honoured and 
remunerated, Woelfl's dramatic ge- 
nius was recalled into action. He 
set to music a small comic opera 
entitled IS Amour Romanesque, the 
success of which encouraged him to 
compose a complete serious opera 
called Fernand, ou les Maures en 
Espagne. In Italy, and with some 
limitation in Germany and England 
too, the literary merit of an opera 
is but a secondary consideration ; so 
the music pleases, a Matrimonio 
segreto, a Magic Flute, or a 
Cabinet, will attract crowded and 
delighted audiences; the text is 
merely considered as the vehicle of 
the music. But in Paris the case 
stands precisely the reverse; there, 
(he music of an opera is like the 
frame to a picture, looked upon 
solely as an accessory ornament, and 
(he strains of even an Orpheus 
would not be capable of averting 
the condemnation of a piece which 
offended against the rules of the 
drama or of good sense. Unfor- 
tunately, "VVoelfl was either unaware 
of this truth, or his judgment of 
the poetical value of his text was 
erroneous. Fernand, (o say the best 
of it, was but an indifferent dramatic 
j performance, and, as might be ex- 
pected, created some dissatisfac- 
l lion even in its first scenes. Yet, 
\ perhaps, it might have survived 
its birth had not a most unlucky 
I blunder of one of the actors sealed 
I the fate of the piece. To rentier 
| the point of our story intelligible lo 
a merely English reader, it may be 



niOGTlAPIIICAL SKETCH OF J. WOr.LFL. 



89 



necessary to observe, that th c French 
word cloirffer signi es " to stifle" 
or i( to choak," which latter inter- 
pretation, altho' somewhat vulgar, 
will best suit our purpose. A Moor- 
ish prince had to say to the kneel- 
ing lover of I) is daughter, " Etouffc 
ics sentiments" (choak thy pas- 
sion). Short as tfiis sentence was, 
the actor, already disconcerted by 
the disapprobation of the audience, 
and rearing an increasing storm, 
had completely lost his cue, and 
■was unable to utter more than the 

first word M tiouffe" (choak) 

" plutbt mourir" (rather die), 
replied prematurely the Spaniard. 
The audience seizing instantly the 
ludicrous difference between a per- 
son's dying in preference to choak- 
ingj fell as suddenly into a continued 
frorsc laugh, which drowned both 
music and text, and consigned the 
piece to oblivion. 

After four years stay in Paris, 
Woelfl determined upon visiting 
England, a country which had 
proved a gold-mine to many of his 
musical countrymen. He arrived 
in London in 1805 ; and here, too, 
he found his name already celebrat- 
ed by some of his works, and by 
the fame of his skill on the piano- 
forte. No wonder, therefore, that 
the reception he met with from 
those that had already heard of him, 
was marked by that liberality with 
which the British nation lias ever 
been eager to treat foreign artists of 
signal talents. And by performing 
during that same season in several 
public and private concerts, his 
abilities became so generally known, 
and his fame so tirmly established 
in this country, that his instruction 
and talents were sought after with 
avidity, lie was forthwith engaged 



to write some ballets for the King's 
Theatre, Hay market; and those 
who have heard his first ballet, 
Diane, will, we dare say, concur 
in our praise of that work. J( is 
replete with pleasing melodies, rich 
harmonies, and original ideas. The 
next efforts of his pen, however, 
were, unluckily again for him, di- 
rected to a piece, the fate of which 
our readers, no doubt, have still 
in their recollection ; we allude to 
the ballet which was to represent the 
Death of Nelson. The impropri- 
ety and indecorousness of the idea 
of the manager to represent the 
British heroin the agonies of death 
at a time when his corpse was yet 
undeposilcd, would have struck a 
public much less refined than the 
audience of the Opera-Housc. The 
indignation of the spectators soon 
fermented into one of those violent 
explosions which are vulgarly term- 
ed " rows." Poor Woelfl, who 
had stood tolerably well the con- 
demnation of his opera at Paris, 
found, to his cost, that a British 
row is as superior in grandeur of 
effect to a French theatrical fracas, 
as the fighting of the former is to that 
of the latter. II is nerves, his whole 
frame became ovei powered by the 
tremendous tumult ; seized by an 
epileptic fit, he fell senseless from 
his stool in the orchestra. Attacks of 
the same kind recurred from that time 
at theslightestexcilemenf of his ner- 
vous system, which, as may be sup- 
posed, was thereby so debilitated, 
that repeatedly, while playing in 
public,his hands involuntarilyrefus- 
ed their office. Accordingly Woelfl 
henceforward, devoted his time 
principally to instruction and com- 
position ; and the works which he 
produced, prove Ihut the vigour of 
N 8 



90 



BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF J. WOELFL. 



his mind remained still unabated. 
Among his writings of that period, 
a beautiful overture maintains a 
principal rank. Several good sym- 
phonies, a set of violin quartetts, 
strongly in Mozart's manner ; some 
piano-forte concertos and sonatas ; 
and a great number of minor publi- 
cations for that instrument, followed 
each other successively. One of 
his latest efforts is the Harmonic 
Budget, a periodical work which 
was published in monthly numbers 
by the proprietor of the Repository 
of Arts ; and the merits of which 
have been so amply analyzed in the 
musical critique of our Magazine, 
that it may be sufficient to draw the 
attention of our readers to the beau- 
tiful preludes it contains, besides a 
great variety of elegant rondos, va- 
riations, vocal pieces, &c. the in- 
trinsic value of which is enhanced 
by the decease of their aulhor. 

The storming of Warsaw, and 
the confusion, carnage, and horror 
attendant thereon, must have made 
an indelible impression on the mind 
of poor Woelfl, since the recollec- 
tion of that scene was revived with 
fatal consequences to him on the 
occasion of the riot which disgraced 
the metropolis at the time of Sir 
Francis Burdett's arrest two years 
asro. It brought on the most violent 
epileptic attack he had yet suffered, 
an extravasation of a blood-vessel 
of the head ensued, which rendered 
him insensible and delirious for se- 
veral weeks. After a long illness, he 
apparently, 3 r et slowly recovered, 
but never regained his former 
health. In fact, his original dis- 
order seems only to have shifted its 
former residence. For this twelve- 
month past, he complained of 
shortness of breath, which gradu- 



ally increased to such a degree, 
that he was no longer able to attend 
his pupils out of doors. In the 
beginning of May, the oppression 
on his chest became so violent, that 
he could no longer sleep in a hori- 
zontal posture. Thus he continued, 
under no very great pain, till the 
21st of May last, when he expired 
without a groan or struggle, at a 
quarter before eight o'clock in the 
morning. The immediate cause of 
his death was an accumulation of 
water in the chest. 

The character of Woelfl partook 
largely of that amiable urbanity 
which, with few exceptions, we 
have observed to be inherent in 
composers, professors, and decided 
amateurs of music, a science of 
which it may with justice be said, 
emollit mores, nee shut esse feros. 
Affable, meek, and kind, even to 
weakness, he was incapable of in- 
juring his greatest enemies, if ever 
he had any, or of speaking ill of 
others. He would have shared his 
last morsel with his friends. All 
the wrong he committed in this 
world was directed against himself. 
So much for Woelfl's heart : of his 
head, his works afford, and will 
long hereafter continue to give am- 
ple evidence, as far as music is con- 
cerned ; and without the verge of 
harmony, his conversation displayed 
a cultivated mind. He had a rich 
vein of humour, which required 
little excitement to launch into witty 
repartees, jeux (Pesprit, and en- 
tertaining anecdote, a propensity 
which, as in Home Tooke, only left 
him with his breath. And besides the 
sprightly sallies of his wit, and his 
performance on the piano-forte, 
Woelfl possessed other qualifica- 
tions to render him an agreeable 



COMMERCIAL INTERCOURSE WITH AFRICA. 



91 



companion in society. He imitated, 
■with the greatest success, a variety 
of sounds and noises not appertain- 
ing to the domain of harmony. The 
roaring of a storm, the rolling of 
thunder, the hissing of lightning, 
the \vlg/zin<j and crackling of afire- 



mourners. The only portrait of 
Woelfl we know of, is a print en- 
graved by Meyer, after a painting 
by Pyne, which the proprietor of 
the Repository, as if under a pre- 
sentiment of the composer's death, 
published a few months previously 



work, the whistlingofbirds, scream- |j to that event, more from motives of 
ing of an infant, and many other 
similar sounds of discord he would, 
when in good humour, mock with 
such truth and glee as frequently to 
deceive persons in an adjoining 
room. He was buried in Mary-le- 
Bone church-yard, attended by a 
number of his most intimate friends, 
principally professors ; Messrs. Cle- 
ment i and Cramer officiating as chief | 



private friendship and a patriotic 
veneration for the transcendent ta- 
lents of a countryman of his, than 
with any view of pecuniary advan- 
tage (as it is given gratis to the 

I purchasers of Woelfl's Budget). 

j It is an excellent likeness, and its 

! execution docs credit to both the 

! artists employed on it. 



COMMERCIAL INTERCOURSE WITH AFRICA. 
TO THE EDITOR. 



Sir, 

At a time when our ancient 
rivals and enemies are exerting all 
their powers to destroy the British 
commerce, and have nearly effected 
their gigantic scheme of cutting off 
all communication between Great 
Britain and the various ports, states, 
and kingdoms of Europe ; at such 
a time, when we are in imminent 
danger of losing the markets of a 
quarter of the globe, it becomes 
essentially important to discover 
other channels for our commerce, 
and other markets for our manufac- 
tures. 

In this point of view, the infor- 
mation lately communicated to the 
public by Mr. James Grey Jackson, j 
in bis Travels in ylfriea, becomes 
highly interesting to the statesman 
as well as to the merchant. From 
the account which he has given of 
the city of Timbuctoo, and its com- 



mercial relations, there is great rea- 
son to conclude that, if we could 
find means to open and maintain a 
safe and easy communication with 
that great emporium, and with the 
rich, fertile, and populous regions 
in its vicinity, we might acquire a 
market for our manufactures which 
would, in time, compensate for the 
loss of that of Europe. 

In the warehouses of Timbuctoo, 
are accumulated the manufactures 
of India and of Europe ; and from 
thence the immense population that 
dwells upon the banks of the Niger 
is supplied. There is no doubt 
that we could furnish the articles 
they want upon much lower terms 
than they can obtain them at pre- 
sent ; and in return, we should 
furnish the best market they could 
have for their gold, ivory, gums, 
and other rich products and raw 
materials. 



02 



THE TREATY-HOUSE, UXBRIDGE. 



Now it certainly appears to me, 
and T think it must appear to every 
man who takes the trouble of inves- 
tigating the subject, that, provided 
government would give proper sup- 
port to the eriterprize, this import- 
ant communication might easily be 
established. For this purpose, no- 
thing more is necessary than to lake 
a fortified station on the African 
coast, somewhere about the 29th 
degree of north latitude, near the 
confines of the Morocco dominions, 
to serve as a safe magazine or empo- 
rium for merchandize. From this 
station it would be easy to maintain 
a direct correspondence with the 
opulent merchants of Timbuctoo ; 
Tegular caravans might be establish- 
ed, to depart at fixed periods ; the 
protection of the Arabs can at all 
•times be purchased at stipulated 
prices, which may be considered as 
premiums of insurance, or as a tax 
for convoy : and thus, in a little 
time, these caravans might carry 
•out merchandize to and from Tim- 
buctoo, with as much regularity 
and safety, and with less expence, 
than our fleets convey our goods 
■fo and from the West Indies. 



The expence of such a fortified 
station as is here proposed, would 
be very moderate in comparison 
with the advantages it would pro- 
duce; and it would be easy to draw 
out a plan for it, but I do not think 
it would be proper to go inflo a de- 
tail here, non est hie locus. 

It has been well observed, that 
commerce is the hey of Africa; 
and I shall only add, that if the 
plan I have suggested were carried 
into execution, these interesting 
regions of Africa, that have hereto- 
fore baffled the attempts of curiosity 
and enterprize, and remained for so 
many ages a u sealed book" to the 
inhabitants of Europe, would soon 
be explored and laid open. This 
is an object that cannot be indiffer- 
ent to a prince who has so evidently 
evinced a desire to patronise science, 
and who is undoubtedly desirous to 
encourage, fo facilitate, and to in- 
crease still further the vast geogra- 
phical discoveries which have add- 
ed such lustre to the reign of his. 
august father. 

1 am, Sir, &c. 

Vasco de Gama, 

June 16, 1SJJ. 



Plate 8.— THE TREATY-HOUSE, UXBRIDGE. 



The town of Uxbridge is remark- 
able in history as the theatre of a 
negociation set on foot for the pur- 
pose of adjusting the differences 
between Charles 1. and his parlia- 
ment, which occasioned so much 
bloodshed, and at length brought 
that unfortunate monarch himself 
to the block. This negoeiation took 
place in the month of January, 
J 645. The commissioners on the 
£&rtof the king were, the Duke of 



Richmond ; the Marquis of Hert- 
ford ; the Earls of Southampton, 
Kingston, and Chichester ; Lords 
Seymour, Hatton, Capel, and Cole- 
pepper ; Sirs Orlando Bridgman, 
Edward Nichols, Edward Hyde, 
Richard Lane, and Thomas Gardi- 
ner; Messrs. Ashburnham, Jeffery, 
and Palmer, with Doctors Stewart, 
Laney, Sheldon, and their attend- 
ants, to the number of 108. The 
parliamentary commissioners were, 



THE TREATY-HOUsr, UXBRIDGE. 95 

the Earls of Northumberland, Pera- , The pulpit was occupied by Chris- 
broke, Salisbui y, and Denbigh : j topher Love, a noted zealot, who 
Lord Wenman ; Messrs. Hollas, accompanied Hie commissioners 
Pierrepoinf, Whitelock, Crow, and from the parliament, and who, in 
Prideaux ; Sir [Jcnry Wane, jun. ; , the course of his oration, assured 
the Solicitor-General J together with his audience, among other violent 
the Marqnis of Argylc ; Lords Lo* || assertions, that " the malignant* 
thian and Maitland ; Sir Charles (meaning the royalists) had come 
Erskine : Messrs. Kennedy, Berke- from Oxford with hearts full of 
ley, and Sanderson, as commis- blood ; and ihat there was as great 
sioners of the parliament of Scotland j ' a distance between this treaty and 
with their attendants. peace, as between heaven and hell." 

Uxbridge being at that time The kind's commissioners remon- 
wilbin the quarters of the parliament slrated against this indecorum, and 
army, particular attention was paid , required that the preacher should 
on their part to the accommodation be punished : but they could ob- 
of i he royal delegates, to whom the tain no other redress, than procuring 
south side of the town was appro- Love to be sent out of the town, 
priated, while the north was oecu- and reprimanded by parliament, 
pied by those of the parliament; We are informed by a contempo- 
the best inns on each side being the rary publication {Perfect Occur- 
head-quarters of the respective par- - rencts, Jan. 1o4j), that the corn- 
ties. Mutual civilities passed be- missioners treated at Mr. Carr's, 
tween them as soon as they arrived ; then lately Sir John Bennett's, " a 
and though Rapin is of opinion, :| very fair house at the farthest end 
that the leaders of neither party of the town, in which house was 
were sincere, there is reason to be- ' appointed them a very spacious 
lieve, that many of the commission- ; room, well hanged, and fitted with 
ers were actuated by honourable seats for the commissioners. The 
motives, andeven entertained hopes, i Earl of Northumberland was quar- 
hbwever ill founded, that they should tercd at Mr. Carr's, and the Larl 
be able to put a stop to the distresses of Pembroke at the Brewhouse, ano- 
of their country. A circumstance, ': ther fair house near it. The chief 
however, which occurred on the inn for the king's commissioners, 
first morning of their meeting, af- was the Crown, and for the parli.i- 
forded an unfavourable omen of the - ment, the George, fair inns near 
result of their deliberations. It the market." Mr. Carr's house 
happened to be market-day, and consisted of a center and two wings, 
the fanaticism of the times required ; so that each party had convenient 
that the people who attended it, : drawing-rooms ; the royalists were 
should hear a sermon before they complimented with the principal 
proceeded to the worldly business of ! gateway for their entrance, while 
Selling their commodities. Many of the parliamentarians condescended 
the persons in the train of the royal ■> to have their access at the back of 
commissioners also went to church the house. Twenty days were spent 
on this occasion, in order to main- | in fruitless altercation ; and at the 
tain an appearance of conformity, end of that time the commissioners 



94 



ON COMME11CE. 



separated with less personal good- 
will than they entertained for eacli 
other at their first meeting, and 
with their prejudices more firmly 
rooted. The royal delegates made 
a great exertion to return to Oxford 
in one day, a distance of 38 miles, 
not caring to trust to the word of 
the opposite party, who had assured 
them, that another day should be 
added to the time for their safe con- 
duct. Thus terminated the treaty 
of Uxbridge, without the smallest 
progress having been made towards 
reconciliation ; but rather with an 
aggravation of rancour, which ulti- 
mately involved many of either 
party in the deepest calamities and 
destruction. 

The Treaty-House, as it has 
ever since been named, is an ancient 
brick edifice, at the west end of the 



town, near the canal. The west 
wing of this mansion, with a large 
dove-house and the gateway, are 
still standing, as represented in our 
engraving. The structure appears 
to be of the time of Henry VII. or 
Vllf . At this mansion Lady Ben- 
nett died, in 1638. It afterwards 
became the property of Wentworlh 
Garneys, Esq. whose co-heirs mak- 
ing a partition of his property, this 
house fell to the share of Charles 
Gosthin, Esq. It was some time 
in the occupation of Sir Christopher 
Abdy, Knight; after whose death, 
it was inhabited by Dr. Thorold, 
who was the last sole resident ; since 
which time the mansion has been 
let to several tenants, and is now 
occupied by Mr. Foxall as the 
Crown Inn. 



ON COMMERCE. 

No. XXII 



The great island of Madagascar, 
which is also called St. Lawrence, 
is situated about 300 miles S. E. of 
the continent of Africa. It is about 
1000 miles long, and from 200 to 
300 miles broad. It abounds 



in 



corn, cattle, fish, and fowl, with 
all such animals and vegetables as 
are to be found on the continent of 
Africa. Situated, as it may be said, 
most advantageously at the entrance 
of the Eastern ocean, and possessing 
provisions and water in great plenty, 
together with some good harbours; 
it seems strange that no European 
nation has deemed it expedient to 
make a permanent settlement upon 
it ; for it is most certain that it is 
capable of opening and carrying on 
a trade, not only in provisions of 
all kinds, but in sundry other com- 
modities. Its conquest (if such a 



measure were desirable or requisite) 
might be easily accomplished, as 
the whole country is divided among 
a number of petty sovereigns, who 
are almost continually at war with 
each other, and who trade in their 
captive slaves with any people who 
will purchase them. The French 
were the only people that con- 
templated such a plan about the 
year 1640, when a Mons. Ricault, 
a captain in the French navy, ob- 
tained a kind of grant of it for ten 
years, and sent out a ship freighted 
by the East Company, by which 
proceeding he obtained letters pa- 
tent for himself and his associates. 
That the attempt was not successful 
we have every reason to believe, 
otherwise the settlement would have 
remained: however, it gave France 
a pretence to claim possession of it ; 



ON A METHOD OF UNROLLING ANCIENT M A N I'SC KIPTS. 



95 



and they scorn to h;\vc had a desire 
of promoting commerce there, by 
making it a part of the concession 
made by Lewis XV, to the Grand 
India Company in 1719, nnder the 
government and protection of the 
Duke of Orleans, then regent of the 
kingdom. That we are borne <>nt 
in our assertion, that the natives 
are capable of being traded with, 
an enumeration of the several arti- 
cles they possess will fully exem- 
plify: such are, gums of several 
kinds, fit for medicine, painting, 
or perfumes, as the eancanum or 
"white gum, dragon's blood, gum 
gutta, tachamaca, and various 
others. They have also different 
kinds of wood for dyers' use, such 
as the vahatz, which produces a 
fine fire colour, and also a golden 
yellow, by adding a decoction of 
citron; also the tambonbetsi, which 
yields a perfect orange. For cabi- 



net and inlaid works there an 1 black 
and grey ebony ; the mnndrize, a 

marbled violet mahogany <>f a deep 
red brown; the sandraha, blacker 
than ebony, and capable of re- 
ceiving a better polish ; the mora 
and endrachendrach, both yellow; 
the h-ncafatrahe, green veined ; 
and several others. Wax, green 
hides, sugar, tobacco, pepper, cot- 
ton, indigo, ambergrease, frankin- 
cense, benzoin, palma christi, salt- 
petre, sulphur, white cinnamon, 
! civet, rock crystal, blond stones, 
i touch stones, terra sigillata, several 
other boles proper for painting and 
j medicine, with reed, flax, and silk 
j mats, may also be procured here; 
but the people, not having a regular 
vent for them, quite neglect the 
culture and fabrication of these 
various articles, except for their 
ov.ii consumption. 

McitCATOit & Co. 



— — — i I J 



ON A METHOD OF UNROLLING ANCIENT MANUSCRIPTS. 

TO THE EDITOR. 
Helmsley, July 5, isis?. side to the writing, and letting it 
Sin, 
Being a reader of your Reposi 
tor?/ of Arts , I could not help 



remain until it was half dry, or a 
little more, I found it answered 
every purpose I desired. If. did 

noticing your account of the papyri !; not sink into the substance of the 

manuscripts found in the ruins of paper, or prevent in the least the 

Herculaneum. I was sorry that 

the contents of any of them should 

he lost for want of unfolding; and 

under these impressions I went to 

work, and baked a paper in an 

o.ven, which I attempted to soften 

and unfold by strong drying oil or 

varnish : but I soon found that it 

sunk into the substance of the pa- 
per, and rendered it so opaque that 

the writing was quite obliterated. 

I then tried it again with very 

strong fflue, bid on the opposite 
No. XLIV. Vol. VIIL 



reading of the manuscript ; yd it 
was strong and pliable, and per- 
mitted me to unroll it at pleasure; 
with this caution only, to lay on 
the glue as far as the manuscript 
presents itself, and let it dry a 
while; then open it as far as you 
can, and proceed to glue as before. 
If you think these hints likely to 
prove of any service, you are at 
liberty to communicate them. I 
am your's, &c. 

J. Milner. 
O 



96 



INTELLIGENCE, LITERARY, SCIENTIFIC, &c. 



The author of Dr. Syntax's Tour 
hi Search of the Picturesque is 
engaged in another poem, as a 
companion to that popular per- 
formance, which will shortly go to 
press. 

Considerable progress lias been 
made in the publication of a natural 
history of the birds found in the 
territories of the United States of 
America, under the title of Ame- 
rican Ornithology. The four vo- 
lumes of this -work which have 
already appeared, contain many 
specimens hitherto unknown; and, 
in regard to execution, they vie with 
the best works of the kind that have 
issued from any European press. 
The -whole edition is sold off in 
America, and the few copies im- 
ported into this country are to be 
had only of the publisher of the 
.Repository. 

Messrs. Sherwood, Neeley, and 
Jones, of Paternoster-row, have an- 
nounced a new periodical work, to 
be entitled The Lover's Magazine, 
or the Court of Cytherea ; the first 
number of which will appear on the 
1st of August. 

Mr. Minasi, engraver to his Sici- 
lian Majesty, and H.R.H. the Duke 
of Sussex, has issued proposals for 
publishing, by subscription, a work 
consisting of original academical 
studies from the human figure, and 
historical compositions selected from 
the works of the English school ; 
interspersed with specimens from 
the Italian masters, particularly 
IlarTaello D'Urbino, &c. The work 
will be comprised in fifty engrav- 
ings, one print will form a delivery. 
The size will be double elephant, 
folio, printed on wove vellum pa- 



per, and on coloured grounds; the 
lights will be heightened in a supe- 
rior and permanent manner. The 
engravings will be executed from 
draw ings by West, Cosway, Law- 
rence, Flaxman, Tresham, Fuseli, 
Nollekens, Marchant, Ottley, Mor- 
timer, Banks, Raffaello D'Urbino, 
Ludovico Caracci, P. G. Battoni, 
and other eminent artists ; and en- 
graved by the late Mr. Schiavo- 
netti, Tomkins, Cheesman, Agar, 
11. and J. Minasi, and other emi- 
nent engravers. The delivery of 
the first print will be on the 1st of 
January, 1S13. 

Mr. Stephens is preparing a Life 
of the late John Home Toolce, 
with whom he lived in consider- 
able intimacy for many years, and 
has been furnished with several 
important documents by his exe- 
cutrix. 

Mr. Henry Mill is preparing a 
Genealogical Account of the Bar- 
clays of Urie, for upwards of seven 
hundred years; including Memoirs 
of Colonel de Barclay, and his son, 
Robert Barclay, author of the 
Apology, with letters that passed 
between him and the Duke of York, 
afterwards James 11. and other dis- 
tinguished characters. 

Mr. B. H. Smart is preparing 
for the press a small school-book, 
by which teachers will be enabled 
to prevent or remove all defects of 
utterance, and train young persons, 
systematically, to a distinct, forci- 
ble, and polite pronunciation. 

The Rev. J. Lettice, D. D. has 
in the press a small volume of 
Fables for the Fireside; to each 
of which is applied a series of mo- 
ral cases, a solution to which to be 






INTELLIGENCE) LITERARY, SCIENTIFIC, &C 



97 



sought previously to any commu- 
nication of the answers annexed, is 
intended as an exercise of the ta- 
lents of investigation and reasoning, 
for the youth of both sexes at a 
proper age. 

In a few days will be published, 
by Colnaghi and Co. a Portrait of 
the late Right lion. Spencer Per- 
ccxal, engraved by A. Cardon, 
from a miniature, painted in the 
year 1790, in the possession of Mrs. 
Perceval. 

Henry Meredith, Esq. Governor 
of Winnebah Fort, will shortly 
publish an Account of the Gold 
Const of Africa, and of the Man- 
ners, &c. of the Natives. 

A work is in the press en-titled 
Ancient Lore j containing a selec- 
tion of aphoristical and preceptive 
passages, on interesting and import- 
ant subjects, from the works of 
the most eminent English authors 
of the sixteenth and seventeenth 
centuries, with a preface and re- 
marks. 

IV! r. John Brady will shortly 
publish a compendious Analysis 
of the Calendar; illustrated by 
ecclesiastical, historical, and clas- 
sical atiecdotes. 

The Rev. Alex. Smith, of Keith 
Hall, has in the press a translation 
of Michael is* celebrated work on the 
Mosaic Law, in two parts, the first 
of which will soon appear. 

Jf'ilenham Hill, a descriptive 
poem, with notes, by the late Rev. 
T. Pentycross, M. A. rector of St. 
Mary, Wallingford, is neailj ready 
for publication. 

It is intended, as soon as possible, 
to publish a History of I J 'ailing- 
ford, from the earliest times. Per- 
sons having authentic documents 
relating thereto, will greatlv oblige 



the editor by communicating them, 
to him, under cover to Mr. J. 
Bradford, Wallingford. 

The Abbe Romanelli has lately 
visited nil thecatacombs which sur- 
round Naples-. He likewise entered 
(lie subterraneous caverns of the 
church of St. Januarius ; and, as? 
sisted by a guide, explored them 
to the extent of two miles and a 
half, in the midst of human ashes, 
broken coffins, skeletons, and ruins, 
lie beheld on all sides Greek in- 
scriptions, sculptured upon stone 
or marble; and paintings of Chris- 
tians who had suffered martyrdom. 
lie also noticed the remains of some 
altars, ihe tombs of the first Nea- 
politan bishops, and one catacomb, 
the inscriptions on which recorded 
the ravages of a pestilence in Na- 
ples in 1020. 

Mr. Price, a gentleman attached 
to \hc Persian embassy, has made 
drawings on thespot, of ('very town, 
village, castle, ruin, mountain of 
note, &c. daring the whole route 
from the Persian Gulf to Tehran, 
the Persian capital. lie has made 
panoramic views of Shiras, Perse* 
polis, Ispahan, Kashan, Kom, and 
Tehran ; giving the costumes of the 
people, Sec: so that on his return 
to England, the public may ex p: Ct 
to be gratified with Ihe fruits o 
labour through this extensive and 
interesting (met of country, hither- 
to so little known in Europe. 

Ma^' 25th, one of the most terri- 
ble accidents on record, in the his- 
tory of collieries, took place at 
Felling, near Gateshead, Durham, 
in the mine belonging to C. J. 
Brandling, Esq. member for New 
castle, which was the admiration 
of the district for its ventilation 
and arrangements. Nearly the v 
O 2 



OS 



MUSICAL REVIEW. 



of (lie workmen were below, the 
second set having gone down before 
the first came up, when a double 
blast of hydrogen gas took place, 
and set the mine on fire, forcing up 
such a volume of smoke as darkened 
the air (o a considerable distance, 
and scattered an immense quantity 
of small coal, from the upper shaft. 
In the calamity, 93 men and boys 
perished. 

MUSICAL REVIEW. 

Three Airs, with Variations for the 
Piano- Fort e, composed, and de- 
dicated to J\Iiss Curtis, by P. A. 
Kreusser. Op. 6. 2d edit. Pr. 6s. 
It is not a frequent task of ours 
to announce to our readers second 
editions of musical compositions ; 
nor is their republication an uner- 
ring indication of intrinsic worth. 
But, in the present instance, the par- 
tiality of the musical public has 
been directed by a correct taste. 
The three airs before us have re- 
cently been held up and comment- 
ed upon in a public lecture, as mo- 
dels of good composition, and ne- 
ver, weown, has (he meed of such ho- 
nourable commendation been award- 
ed with greater justice. The themes 
of the first and second air, which 
seem to proceed from the author's 
own invention, are simple, melodi- 
ous, and tasteful, (he variations of 
strikingly different character, not a 
random skip ping through the chords 
of the subject, but an elaborate 
combination of ideas strung on the 
thread of i!.e theme with as much 
graceful ease, as obvious care and 
skill. When merit is so universal, 
so nicely balanced throughout a 
work, (lie selection of any particu- 
lar beauties is the more difficult and 
ungracious, as the silence, in regard j 
lo other parts, might be construed 



into a tacit acknowledgment of their 
inferiority. Guarding, therefore, 
our readers, and, indeed, the au- 
thor, against such a misinterpreta- 
tion, we will not dismiss the two 
first airs without expressing, in re- 
gard to the one that takes the lead, 
our approbation of the delicacy of 
var. 2, the strong and expressive 
bass of var. 3, and the happy idea 
of allotting to the left hand of the 
4th var. not absolutely the melody 
of the subject, but a second part 
thereof. Of the second air, our 
room permits us merely to notice the 
pleasing and fanciful lightsomeness 
of the 1st var. the melodious effect 
of the continued semiquavered thirds 
in the third, and the fine manly 
bass of the 5th var. ; where, among 
the many judicious improvements of 
this edition, we observe the fine ef- 
fect of the few minor touches in the 
second part, not to be met with in 
the first edition. The third air and 
its superstructure is of a different 
cast from its predecessors. Here 
Mr. K. seems to have had an in- 
tention of displaying powers of a 
higher order. The very theme it- 
self, and its scientifically harmoniz- 
ed second part, give an earnest of 
what is to follow. Tins expecta- 
tion, too, is amply fulfilled. The 
first variation, already, especially 
in i(s latter part, exhibits uncom- 
mon harmonic beauties. The se- 
cond, which proceeds in a style 
highly original and chromatically 
profound, is a masterpiece. In the 
third we have to admire the fine 
crossed- hand passages; and the 
fourth, particularly in its modula- 
tions of the second part, has afford- 
ed us a real musical treat. An ele- 
gant minor constitutes No. 5; ami 
in the last var. we cannot pass by 






1IUSICAL IlEYIEVT. 



.the striking (fleet of one or two 
more crossed-hand passages. We 
have only superficially glanced at 
some of the excellencies to be met 
with in this third air; it must be 
heard to be duly appreciated, and 
then, we make no doubt, every 
person of true and refined musical 
taste will concur in our verdict, 
that it is a first-rate composition, 
such as we have from the pen of a 
Mozart or Haydn, and such as 
m;iy fairly challenge competition 
with the best authors of the present 
day. 

An Anglo - Caledonian Air, with 
Variations for the Piano- Forte, 
composed, and dedicated to Miss 
Baillie, of Grosvenor - street, 
by J. B. Cramer. Pr. 3s. 
After a short and appropriate in- 
troductory largo, in D major, Mr. 
C. presents us with his theme in 
the same key, a pretty Scotch air, 
•well qualified, on account of its 



semiquaver rests, excites our iu- 
1 terest. No. 7 is an andante in the 
pastoral style, beautifully chaste 
and melodious. In the eighth 
variation, an allegretto, the left 
hand once more goes through the 
melody of the subject under a pleas- 
ing accompaniment of demiscmi- 
quavers in the treble; and in p. 7, 
where the return to the original 
time takes place, we arc aware of the 
striking effect of the loud full chords, 
succeeding part of the phrase of 
the motivo expressed piano. A 
long cadence follows in the eighth 
and last page, after which a short 
loudening coda concludes the piece 
with much brilliancy. 
Three Waltzes, with Introductions 

for the Harp or Piano- Forte. 

composed, and dedicated to Mrs. 

Cuthbert, by F. Lanza. First 

Set. Pr. 3s. 64. 

We do not at all find fault with 
the popularity which walzes have 



simplicity, to be exhibited under of late acquired in this country, 
different shapes and hues. In the ! Their sprightly nature, shortness, 



eight variations deduced from it, 
every thing abstruse or profound in 
harmony seems to have been studi- 
ously avoided ; but, on the other 



regularity, 1 and repetition of the 
phrases, render them so intelligible 
and agreeable to incipient players, 
that we would recommend to pro- 



hand, we observe throughout the fessors to place, occasionally, a walz 



traces of a rich and luxuriant inven- 
tion, a protean versatility, which 
could not fail to clothe the theme 
in a variety of dresses, at once 
ornamental and tasteful. The third 
variation is highly picturesque, on 
account of the continual interpola- 
tion in the right hand of the paused 
demiscmiquavcrs between the regu- 
lar progress of the melody in the 
bass. In the minor (No. 4) a spirit 
of humorous playfulness prevails, 
which has our peculiar approbation. 
The cast of the fifth variation, 
broken throughout by intervening 



upon the desk of the pupil, who 
will derive essential improvement, 
both as to his musical ear and in 
respect to the keeping of time. 
With this intention, probably, was 
written the present publication, and 
the prefixing of a brief introductory 
slow movement appears to us com- 
mendable. Although the title pro- 
claims them equally fit for the harp 
or piano-forte, we suspect they were 
rather designed for the harp. On 
the piano we find many passages 
extremely awkward for the fingers, 
and some scarcely to be executed as 



100 



MUSICAL REVIEW. 



they stand written. In the first 
ivalz we think too liberal a use is 
made of the high additional keys, a 
practice for which we have, on seve- 
ral former occasions, disavowed 
any predilection, except when spar- 
ingly introduced. Of the three 
walzes, we feel the greatest partiali- 
ty for the last in one flat ; the subject 
is pleasing, and the ideas deduced 
from it, including the minor, follow 
each other in regularly linked suc- 
cession; and t lie harmony of all the 
three is correct and full. 
A Sonata for the Piano-Forte, 
composed by J. W. Holder, 
Mus. Bac. Oxon. Op. 36. Pr. 3s. 
A composition of light and simple 
bearing, not conspicuous for origi- 
nality of ideas, but, upon the whole, 
pleasing, and well adapted to the 
comprehension and execution of be- 
ginners, except in some few in- 
stances, where the passages might 
have been set more congenial to the 
hand. The bass throughout is 
plain, generally an accompaniment 
of the mere chord, and indeed not 
every where completely thus much, 
or not the most apposite. In the 
allegro, for instance(p. 2, l. 2, b. 5), 
we could have wished for a little 
more of the seventh, than the mere 
D in the bass ; and the same may 
be said of F sharp, p. 3, /. 5, b. 5. 
The rondo has a lively ■£ theme in 
the walz style, and a variety of 
fluent passages linked together in 
good order. Its minor, in four flats, 
is the best portion of the book ; 
good taste, and a respectable share 
of science and skill, are observable 
in its texture; yet, what the Ab 
has to do in the second quaver of 
bar 2, /. 3, m the bass, we cannot 
see ; the same chord as the one that 
follows (I) b, F, B b), Mould have 



been much preferable. The con- 
clusion, p. 9, consisting of a mere 
repetition of a preceding phrase, 
appears somewhat tame ; a little 
more winding up would have been 
desirable, to close all with effect. 
There is no slow movement ; an 
omission arising probably from a 
desire of yielding to the taste of 
the vulgar part of the musical 
public. 

The Baron of Mowbray, a Ro- 
mantic Glee for three Voices^ 
dedicated by permission to the 
Right Honourable Lord Clinton ■ 
composed by J. A. Jones, Esq. 
Pr. 2s. 6d. 

This little glee is so similar in 
melody and harmonic construction 
to many hundreds of an older date, 
that it would be difficult to point 
out any passage which could lav 
claim to particular notice on the 
score of originality or harmonic 
skill. The three voices proceed in 
a plain beaten track, and, in that? 
they do not arrive at the close of 
their journey without stumbling. 
Thus, for instance, in the two last 
semiquavers of the second line, we 
observe a succession of concealed 
fifths; and a similar faux pas 
occurs in the two first quavers of bar 
3, /. 1, p. 2, not to speak of the B 
flat in the bass of the bar preceding* 
which (we hope by an error of the 
printer alone) is not made B natu- 
ral, as it ought to be. A very slight 
alteration would obviate these ob* 
jections, and render this glee ac- 
ceptable to a trio of plain vocal 
amateurs, who do not look for any 
thing novel or elaborate in their 
harmonic paslime. 
Duet for two Performers on the 
Piano- Forte, in which is intro- 
duced the favourite Air of the 



MUSICAL REVIEW. 



10l 



Welch Harpery composed, and 
inscribed to Miss Elizabeth Fitz- 
gerald, and Miss Sophia Court' 
/k//, by Theodore Smith, Author 
of the celebrated (?) Duets dedi- 
cated to Lady Windsor. Op. 
49. Pr. 4s. 

As we are unacquainted with 
Mr. S.\s ducts dedicated to Lady 
Windsor, Ave are precluded from 
forming nn opinion whether the 
present work be entitled to the same 
celebrity which thetitlepage assigns 
to its predecessors. In point of 
variety, we make no doubt, the 
publication before us will not fall 
short of them : there is an " Intro- 
ductione" (Introduzione ?) formed 
upon a subject we arc not strangers 
to — a " Pomposoa. la Militairc" — 
a " Grazioso amoroso e" (ed ?) 
4C cxpressivo," (espressivo ?) — the 
motivo of which is taken from the 
well known air, Sul margine d'un 
rio, and the vernacular air of the 
Welch Harper, which, on account 
of the frequent repetitionof its parts, 
we presume to be a great favourite 
with the author. On the arrange- 
ment and harmonic construction of 
this collection of movements, we 
will content ourselves to state our 
opinion, that it cannot have cost 
the author much trouble or appli- 
cation of his science and ingenuity. 
All is plain sailing, and perfectly 
intelligible to a novice ; the conve- 
nience of the fingers is generally 
attended to, so that no uncommon 
proficiency is required to master the 
contents of the first or second parts. 
Clement i and Co. y s Collection of 
Rondos, Airs with Variations, 
and Military Pieces for the Pi- 
ano- Forte , by the most esteemed 
Composers. No. 58. Pr. 2s.6d. 
Do. Do. Do. No. GO. Pr. 2s. 6d. 



Both these numbers of Messrs. 
Cleroenti and Co. 's popular Collec- 
tion are from the pen of Mr. Lin*;; 
and without being biassed by lim 
recollection of that gentleman'i 
masterly performance on the piano- 
forte, we can safely aver, that these 
specimens of his abilities as a com- 
poser, deserve encouragement. }n 
the former (No. 58), the air, "Hush 
ev'ry breeze," ( in G) forms the basis 
of ihe first movement, in the four 
pages of which, the author has tra- 
velled creditably and with facility 
through a variety of passages in 
the allied keys of D and A, con- 
stantly keeping his motivo in view. 
By means of a cadence he afterwards 
passes to the well known air, " Oh 
Nanny, wilt thou gang with me ?" 
which, in the first instance, is 
given in its simple dress, and sub- 
sequently represented under a varied 
form, with as much success as the 
nature of the air (which to us seems 
not well calculated for variation) 
would admit of. From this, another 
cadence leads once more to the 
subject of the first movement ; a 
minor follows; and the whole is 
wound up in a very commendable 
termination, founded on the subject 
and appropriately accompanied by 
the sustained chord of G gradually 
dying away pianissimo. 

No. 60 is constructed upon the 
same plan. The first and secom: 
movements are grounded upon Eng- 
lish airs, viz. l * Light as thistle 
down," and " When the rosy 
morn ;" and their arrangement and 
superstructure are similar to what 
we have noticed in No. 5S. Some 
creditable modulations are intro- 
duced in pp. 337 and 313; and. the 
air, " When the rosy morn," is 
variegated with taste. Of the con« 



102 



ST. JAMES S SQUARE. 



elusion, however, we. cannot speak 
in terms of unqualified approbation. 
From /. 4 (p. 343), downwards, we 
observe some turns and harmonical 
shifts, which, whatever labour (heir 
construction may have caused to 
the author, are far from coinciding 
with our ideas of elegant fluency 



and finished style of composition. 
Otherwise, there is merit in that 
page, as we have already stated, 
especially in the line preceding the 
one just mentioned. Both these 
publications lie under the hand, 
and come within the reacli of a 
moderately advanced performer. 



Plate 9.— ST. JAMES'S SQUARE. 



This square, situated on the north 
side of Pall-Mall, is extensive and 
beautiful. The greater part of its 
area is paved, the center only being 
surrounded with iron railing, which 
forms an octagon : in the middle is 
a circular bason of water, in which, 
on a pedestal, is an equestrian 
statue of William III. in stone, 
erected in 1808, with the amount 
of a legacy bequeathed by a gen- 
tleman for the purpose. This piece 
of sculpture, from tlie chisel of 
Bacon,' may vie in point of exe- 
cution with almost any other work 
of the kind in the metropolis. It 
is a remarkable circumstance, that 
when the bason was cleared out for 
the purpose of setting up this statue, 
the persons employed in this labour 
found in it, among other curiosities, 
the keys of Old Newgate, which had 
lain there ever since the destruction 
of that edifice in the riots of 1780, 
a period of more than twenty years. 

Though many may be of opinion, 
that, by a different arrangement of 
the area of t,his square, on the plan, 
for example, ofGrosvenor or Berke- 
ley square, it would be rendered 
much more pleasant to its inha- 
bitants, and produce a more agree- 
able effect on the eye of the passen- 
ger; it cannot, on the other .band, 
be denied, that, by the present dis- 



position, the handsome edifices of 
which it is chiefly composed are 
shown to greater advantage. 

An ingenious author observes, 
that though St. James's Square ap- 
pears extremely grand, yet this 
grandeur does not arise from the 
magnificence of the houses, but 
only from their regularity, the neat- 
ness of the pavement, and the beau- 
ty of the bason ; and that if the 
houses were built more in taste, and 
the four sides exactly correspondent 
to each other, the effect would be 
much more surprising, and the 
pleasure arising from it more just. 
He might have added, that were 
the whole of the south side, which 
is totally incongruous with the rest, 
thrown open to Pali-Mall, the effect 
would be amazingly heightened, 
and the other sides exhibited to ex- 
traordinary advantage. The small- 
ness of the area between that side 
of the square and Pall-Mall must 
for ever preclude its being covered 
with houses corresponding in st3 r le 
with those of the other three. 

It must be obvious to the greatest 
stranger, that the inhabitants of a 
square like St. James's must be of 
the first rank and consequence. On 
the cast side, at the entrance from 
Pall-Mail, is the spacious mansion 
of the Duke of Norfolk, in which 






<* 







I *Q? 









RETROSPECT OF POLITICS. 



103 



a recent writer* states (we know 
not on what authority), that his 
present Majesty was born. Adjoin- 
ing to this is London House, the 
town residence of the bishops of 
that sec. Here arc also the mansions 
of the Earls of Dartmouth and Fal- 
mouth, Lord Viscount Castlereagli, 
Sir Watkin Wiiliams Wynne, 
George Byng, Esq. M. P. for Mid- 
dlesex, Alexander Davison, Esq. 
&c. &c. At the south-west corner, 
opposite to Norfolk House, is the 
stately edifice erected (we believe) 
by the late Duke of Leeds, but 
which, since the removal of the 
Ordnance OlRce to Cumberland 
House in Pall- Mall, has belonged 
to (he Union Club. On the north 
side, at the east corner of York- 

* Hughson's LondoiiyW . 310. 



street, is the house and factory 
established by the late Josiah 
Wedgewood, Esq.* who invented 
and brought to perfection a species 
of porcelain in imitation of the 
Etruscan and other potteries of 
antiquity, as well as of the best 
models of the moderns. This house 
was formerly the residence of a 
Spanish ambassador to our court, 
and the adjoining chapel in York- 
street was a place of worship for 
himself and his retinue. This 
chapel has since been used for the 
religious exercises of various con- 
gregations, and at present belongs 
to Mr. Proud, a follower of the 
principles of Emanuel Swcdenborg. 

* A view of the ware-room belonging 
to ttiis establishment lias been given in 
the Repository, No. II. 



RETROSPECT OF POLITICS. 



nUSSIA NORTH OF EUROPE. 

At lemrlh the die is cast ; Bona- ■ 
parte has crossed the Niemen, en- | 
tercd the Russian territory, and ; 
thus a new continental war has com- i 
menced : a gigantic struggle of half I 
a million of human beings, arrayed 
from every quarter of Europe ; on il 
one side to be wantonly sacrificed 
to the insatiable thirst of universal i 
sway of an upstart tyrant ; on the | 
other, to shed their blood in the 
defence of a lawful sovereign, and 
in the just cause of the indepen- i 
dence of their country, indeed of 
the world. Viewed in the latter i 
liirht, the events which are about 
to take place will be of momentous 
importance to this country. V> hat- 
ever be the issue of the contest, to 
England it will ultimately be bene- 
ficial. Should our enemy succeed, 

No. XLIV. Vol. VIII. 



his victories will be dearly pur- 
chased ; his power, that is, his 
armies and his treasure, is already 
on the decline ; France alone is 
already insufficient to fill his ranks. 
What will it be, when this new 
war shall have swept away myriads, 
which must be lost in battle 1 ? Jn 
Spain it is not improbable that our 
armies will, during the favourable 
interval, push their efforts to the 
utmost possible extent, and if not 
drive the French beyond the Ebro, 
yet gradually diminish their force, 
and rescue a great part of the Pe- 
ninsula from their grasp. Our li- 
mits, however, will not admit us 
to indulge much in speculative 
matter, we are almost confined to 
the recital of bare facts, and, im- 
portant as even this task will prove, 
we shall endeavour to present to 



104 



RETROSPECT OF POLITICS. 



our readers in this and our future 
reports, a concise narrative of the 
principal events of this war, with 
the same regularity and exactness 
as it has hitherto been our study to 
observe in the history of the Spanish 
war, and the political intelligence 
in general. 

Before we enter upon the events 
of the war itself, it will be expected 
that we should state the principal 
causes which have led to it. They 
lie in a narrow compass : — France 
demanded a strict adherence on the 
part of Ilussia to the continental 
system; an absolute exclusion from 
the Russian ports, not only of Eng- 
lish vessels, English manufactures, 
and colonial goods, but even of neu- 
tral flags, carrying English or co- 
lonial goods, or that had been stop- 
ped and examined by British ships ; 
and also the acquiescence of Russia 
in the arbitrary seizure of the duchy 
of Oldenburg, and the expulsion 
of its rightful sovereign, a prince 
of the house of the Czars. Russia 
insisted on the independence of 
Prussia, and its immediate deliver- 
ance from the troops and sway of 
France, admission of neutral flags 
into her ports, an equivalent for the 
duchy of Oldenburg, and the resto- 
ration of Swedish Pomerania to 
Sweden. It was not to be expected 
from the haughty temper of Bona- 
parte, that he would comply with 
these requisitions. On the 16th of 
June he left Kcinigsberg, and on 
the following days was occupied in 
reviewing several corps of his army 
at Wehlau and Inslerburg. On 
the 20th was issued the first bulletin 
of the grand army, dated at Gum- 
binneu, and on the 22d of June 
appeared another, dated at Wilko- 
wiski. It is stated that, on the 



same day, Napoleon declared war 
against Russia : whether this was 
done by any particular manifesto 
we are not informed, but this se* 
cond bulletin would certainly render 
any other declaration unnecessary. 
Agreeably to the resolution express- 
ed in it, to proceed to immediate 
hostilities, the French army, on the 
24th and 25th, passed the Niemen, 
the boundary between the duchy 
of Warsaw and the Russian ferric 
tories, by means of three bridges ; 
and on the 26th, the light infantry 
pushed forward, unopposed, to with- 
in ten leagues of Wilna, the capital 
of Russian Poland, and the head- 
quarters of the Emperor Alexander. 
Such is the point at which we are 
left by the third bulletin (the last 
that has yet been received), dated 
at Kowno, June 26. 

The policy which Russia is re- 
presented as having adopted in this 
emergency, appears to be the only 
line of conduct by which her exist- 
ence as an independent nation can 
be secured or even protracted. 
Bonaparte, there is every reason to 
believe, would not advance, but 
with an overwhelming force, which, 
admitting even an equality of mili- 
tary skill and experience on both 
sides, would leave little chance of 
a successful opposition in the field. 
The Russian government has there- 
fore not thought proper to make a 
stand on its own frontiers, but en- 
joined the system of carrying off 
or destroying all the means of sub- 
sistence in the country into which 
the enemy is advancing. If this 
plan be but faithfully executed and 
persevered in, we may hope for a 
very different termination to the 
campaign from what the arroganfe 
invader so fondly anticipates. 



RETROSPECT OF POLITICS. 



105 



The rumour of the decease of 
Count RomanzofF has been contra- 
dicted, but it is acknowledged (hat 
he has had a paralytic attack. 
Count Kolschubey has been ap- 
pointed to succeed him in the com- 
mand of the Russian army. 

According to concurring reports 
arrived from different quarters, 
peace has, at last, been signed be- 
tween the Russian and Turkish 
plenipotentiaries at Bucharest, on ; 
the 28th of May (old style, proba- 
bly, which corresponds ay it h the 
9th of June in our calendar). The 
terms, as they are stated, and as 
far as they have transpired, are 
moderate, and therefore promise 
stability: Russia abandons all her 
conquests on the south of the Pruth, 
that river forming her new boun- 
dary' ; the Turks cede Choczim, 
and engage, in case Austria fur- 
nishes troops against France, to 
send 50,000 men, fully equipped, 
to the assistance of Russia. 

If the latter article be correctly 
stated, the Turks will have to put 
it in force immediately: for, both 
with Prussia and Austria treaties 
have recently been concluded, by 
which each of these powers is (b|| 
furnish to France, and at her abso- 
lute disposal, a corps of 30,000 
men, fully equipped ; that of Prus- 
sia is already serving with the 
French army, and the Austrian 
contingent, under the command of 
the Prince of Schwarzenberg, is 
on its march to occupy the duchy 
of Warsaw. 

From the tenor of the official cor- 
respondence between the French 
minister for foreign affairs, and the 
Russian ambassador at Paris, which I 
has been made public, there seems I 
to be little doubt that the best under- 



standing subsists between Russia 
and Sweden ; and all (he accounts 
from the North repeat the assurance 
of this fact, and that both these 
powers are sincerely disposed to 
court the friendship of Great Britain. 
The Swedish fleet of eight sail of 
the line has sailed from CarKcrona 
to the Gulf of Finland, with the 
alledgcd intention of co-operating 
with the Russian navy. The report 
of the arrival of Generals Moreau 
ami Bluchcr in Sweden, on the in- 
vitation of Bernadotfe, though per- 
haps incorrect, yet serves to mark 
the spirit of resistance to the en- 
croachments of France, by which 
the Crown Prince is actuated in 
common with the nation over which 
he presides. 

If. has been finally determined, 
we are told, by the imperial show- 
man, to add another crowned auto- 
maton to the number of his puppets, 
in the person of the Grand-duke of 
Wurzburg, a brother of the Empe- 
ror of Austria, for whom Poland 
is to be again transformed into a 
kingdom, and restored to its ancient 
dimensions. 

SPAIN'. 

An^.o- Portuguese Army. 
Active operations have again com- 
menced between the grand hostile 
armies in the Spanish Peninsula. 
Lord Wellington, at the head of 
the allied force, crossed the Aguqda, 
on the I3th of June, ami arrived 
near Salamanca on the 16th. The 
enemy, after a slight skirmish, in 
which their cavalry were repulsed. 
evacuated the city in the night of 
the 16th, and marched towards 
Toro, leaving 800 men in some 
works newly constructed above the 
town. Against the principal of 
these the batteries were expected to 
P 2 



106 



RETROSPECT QF POLITICS. 



open on the 19th. Marmont, it is 
conjectured, designs to concentrate 
his force be! ween Toro and Zamora. 
The joy of the inhabitants of Sala- 
manca on this deliverance from 
French oppression, is described as 
unbounded. The enemy, during 
their three years' occupation of the 
city, have destroyed 13 out of 25 
convents, and 22 out of 25 colleges, 
which existed in that venerable seat 
of learning. The conduct of the 
French, indeed, on every occasion, 
seems calculated to strengthen that 
antipathy which the Spanish nation 
cannot help feeling against them : 
private accounts even state, that, 
before their retreat, Salamanca was 
given up to plunder, and that the 
whole of their route was marked 
with devastation. 

The head-quarters of Sir 11. Hill 
were meanwhile at Zafra. A de- 
tachment of his force, consisting of 
two regiments of the brigade of 
cavalry, under Major-General Shade, 
having been sent to cover a recon- 
noissance, was met on the 11th of 
June, near Valencia de las Torres, 
by a brigade of French cavalry 
under General L'Allemand. The 
enemy was immediately attacked, 
and pursued near three leagues with 
considerable loss ; but receiving re- 
inforcements, he was enabled to 
charge our men at a time when, 
from too great eagerness in the pur- 
suit, they were in great confusion. 
The consequence was, that almost 
all the prisoners taken by General 
Slade, were recovered, and he him- 
self sustained a loss of 166 men 
killed, wounded, and prisoners. 

A few days after this check, Gen. 
Hill received information, that 
Drouet, reinforced by three batta- 
lions, had moved forward to Llercna 



with 7000 men, and that Soult, 
with a column of 13,000, was ad- 
vancing from Seville towards Estre- 
madura. He therefore deemed it 
advisable to march back to Albuera, 
where he has been joined by three 
British and one Portuguese regi- 
ments, and by the Spanish troops 
under the Conde de Penne Villemur. 
On the 19th of June, the two French 
generals formed a junction near 
Zafra ; their united force consists 
of 21,000 men, whilethat of General 
Hill is estimated at 18,000. It is 
not improbable, that another con- 
flict may take place on ground al- 
ready immortalized by the efforts 
of British valour. 

SOUTH OF SPAIN. 

The most important event in this 
quarter, since onr last report, has 
been the well contested action be- 
tween the active and enterprising 
Ballasteros, and a French division 
under Gen. Courroux. The Spanish 
leader being deceived respecting 
the force of the enemy, resolved to 
attack him, though advantageously 
posted and fortified on the heights 
of Bomos. The battle was one of 
the most sanguinary, considering 
the numbers engaged, that has been 
fought during the present war in 
the Peninsula. The Spanish force, 
consisting of 6000 men, lost about 
1800, among whom were 73 officers, 
and was obliged to retreat across the 
Guadelete, to its original ground, 
in which operation the French diet 
not think fit to molest it. Of the 
loss of the latter, which must have 
been very considerable, we have no 
exact statement, though it is said 
that a French officer taken prisoner 
on the occasion, admits it to have 
amounted to 600. 

In the city of Cadiz want and dis- 



RETROSPECT OP POLITICS* 



107 



ease arc making such havoc among 
the inhabitants, that 18,000 are 
said to have died in the first four 
months of the present year. The 
Duke del Infantatlo arrived in that 
city on 13th June, and has assum- 
ed the functions of President of the 
Regency. It has been officially no- 
tified, that the new Cortes for next 
year will assemble on the 1st Octo- 
ber, 1813, till which time a depu- 
tation of the present Cortes shall 
remain permanent. 

EAST OF SPAIN AND GUERILLAS. 

Mina, the celebrated partizan, 
continues to harass the enemies of 
his country with unabated vigi- 
lance. His enterprise and address 
were exerted in the beginning of 
April against a French convoy 
escorted by 2000 Polish infantry 
and 1.00 horse, and who had also 
in charge a detachment of the pri- 
soners belonging to the army of 
Ballastcros. Hearing that this con- 
voy was at Vitoria, he determined 
to intercept it ; his measures were 
taken with such skill, and executed 
with such courage, that, after a 
conflict of an hour, he had the 
satisfaction to find himself master of 
the whole convoy, and to deliver 
400 of his gallant countrymen from 
captivity. Between 6 and 700 of 
the enemy were killed on the spot, 
150 taken prisoners, and 500 wound- 
ed sent to Vitoria. This brilliant 
success was obtained with t he insig- 
nificant loss of 5 killed and 50 
wounded. On this occasion, M. 
Deslandes, who had been private 
secretary to Joseph Bonaparte, and 
was the bearer of letters from him 
to his wife and brother, was killed 
while endeavouring to escape in the 
dress of a peasant. From the cor- 
respocdence with which he was 



charged, and which has since been 
published, it appears that his mas- 
ter would fain follow the example 
of his brothers Louis and Lticien, 
and exchange the dignity that has 
been forced upon him for a private 
station. 

A French corps of 2000 men, 
under Gen. Elarispe, having made 
their appearance before Alicanf, on 
a plundering expedition, Colonel 
Roche went out to meet the ma- 
rauders, and repulsed them with the 
loss of about 300 men killed, wound- 
ed, and prisoners. 

The French papers have given 
the details of an unsuccessful attack 
on Tarragona by General Lacy, in 
concert with an English naval force, 
on the 22d of April ; but from this 
account we cannot collect that the 
Spaniards sustained any loss worthy 
of notice. The attempt of the 
French upon Alicant is mentioned, 
in a very equivocal manner, in the 
same papers ; which also state, that, 
subsequently to the 19th April, 
Mina with his party was surprized 
at Robus, on the left bank of the 
Ebro, by General Panneter, and 
that the chief himself very narrowly 
escaped being cut off. According 
to recent accounts from the north of 
Spain, Mina has been appointed 
second in command in the army of 
General Mendizabel, whose head- 
quarters are at Burgos. 

An expedition, planned against 
Almeria, which was garrisoned by 
4 or 500 French, was moat ably ex- 
ecuted by General i'reire and Capt. 
| Adam of his Majesty's ship Invin- 
cible. The former kept iu check 
the French general opposed to him, 
who, ignorant of the expedition, 
on the 14th May ordered the gairi- 
son to join him. As the Ficnch 



108 



RETROSPECT OF POLITIC*. 



marched out Capt. Adam landed 300 
Spaniards, whom lie had on board, 
took possession of the place, de- 
stroyed the castle of St. Elmo, and 
all the batteries which protected 
the anchorageaud port, and formed 
a secure resort for numerous pri- 
vateers. 

Similar success has attended the 
operations of various English ves- 
sels in concert with the Spanish 
guerillas on different parts of the 
coast. Sir Home Popham, in the 
Venerable, has in particular been 
very active on the shores of Biscay, 
where several castles and batteries, 
in the possession of the enemy, have 
been taken and destroyed. 

Jf we may credit accounts from 
Catalonia, it seems, that, notwith- 
standing all the boasted successes 
of the French there, the patriotic 
force is still formidable both in 
number and discipline. It is stated 
at 25,000 men under General Lacy, 
the Anglo -Catalonian legion of 
4000 under Colonel Grey, besides 
which there are about 12,000 more 
faithful Spaniards under arms in 
that province. General Sarsfield, 
who commands a division of 4000 
men, on the 26th May attacked a 
corps of 3500 French at Molins 
del Rey. After an action of five 
hours, the latter were driven from 
all their positions with the loss of 
700 men, 175 of whom were taken 
prisoners. 

We look forward with well found- 
ed confidence and hope to important 
events in this quarter, for which an 
expedition has sailed from Sicily. 
It consists of about 7000 men, 
among which are three British regi- 
ments and two of the German legion, 
and is under the command of Gen. 
Maitland, who is to call at Majorca 



for the Spanish troops which have 
been training in that island. Such 
a forces added to the native energies 
of Catalonia, will doubtless give 
more than employment to every 
Frenchman in the province, and 
effectually prevent Suchet from 
sending any succours to the armies 
in the south and west of the 
Peninsula. 

SPANISH COLONIES. 

We are sorry to learn that hosti- 
lities between the royal and the re- 
publican parties on the banks of the 
Rio de la Plata have been resumed. 
By ad vices down to the 1st of April, 
it appears that the army of Buenos 
Ayres had crossed to the opposite 
side of the river for the purpose of 
attacking Monte Video; while the 
squadron of Monte Video had 
reached its station before Buenos 
Ayres, and was again threatening 
that town with destruction. 

In the province of Vera Cruz 
the number of the insurgents con- 
tinues to increase. Reinforcements 
from Cadiz have reached thecapital, 
but they are only just sufficient to 
assist in keeping the republican 
party in check. Two insurgent 
chiefs only are said to have under 
them no less than 70,000 men. 

In Santa Fe, though it is repre- 
sented as in the most wretched state 
of discord and division, we are ne- 
vertheless assured that the arrival 
of 1000 men from Europe would 
be fully adequate to disconcert all 
the schemes of the revolutionists. 

The Caraccas seem in general to 
be favourably disposed to the re- 
publicans. Herelheinsurgents have 
taken possession of Valencia with- 
out opposition, and Puerto Cavallo, 
though regularly fortified, is ex- 
pected to make no resistance. Mi- 



RETROSPECT OF POLITICS. 



109 



randa, who has assumed the au- , June, on the discussion of the ques-? 
thorily of generalissimo of the states I tion of war with England, the IIouso 
of V r enezuela, has issued a procla- '■ of Representatives voted in favour 



mation, dated May 21st, requiring 
the governor* of the confederal e 
provinces and their inhabitants to 
co-operate in the accomplishment 
of the liberty and independence of 
the country. 

IMTEI) STATF.S OF AMERICA. 

The British government has at 



of hostilities by a majority of CjO. 
out of 128 members. Though pains 
have certainly been taken to exas- 
perate the public mind again at Great 
Britain, yet it can scarcely be doubt? 
ed, that when the repeal of the 
Orders in Council becomes known 
on the other side of the Atlantic, 



length adopted a method of bring- jj the good sense of the Americans 



ing to a conclusion those discussions 
that have been for some years pend- 
ing with the United States, in the 
revocation of the long-contested Or- 
ders in Council. This revocation 
is founded on an ante-dated instru- 
ment of France, which declares that 
the Berlin and Milan Decrees ceased 
to be in force since the 8th April, 
1811 ; but which was, in fact, not 
issued till the present year, and 
was first communicated to our court | 
by the American charge d'affaires 
on the 20th May last. From this 
last date then it is that the Orders 
in Council are delared to be repeal- 
ed ; but those only of January 
1807 and April 1809, arc specified; 
{he rest being implied in a general 
plausc, indicating that none of the 
others which were superseded by 
these, are on the repeal of the latter 
to be revived. It is expressed, also, 
that the British government expects 
America to fulfil her part by re- 
scinding the Non-intercourse Act, 
which concession, in this case, she 
stands pledged by her official de- 
clarations to make. 



will lead them to adopt more mo- 
derate sentiments. 

NAVAL INTELLIGENCE. 

Besides the brilliant operations 
in which our naval force has been 
engaged on the Spanish coasts, we 
have to mention some other in- 
stances in which the characteristic 
ardour of British sailors has been 
honourably displayed. 

On the 3d of July a gallant, at- 
tempt was made by Captain Len- 
nock, of the Raven sloop, off the 
Scheldt, to destroy a French flo- 
tilla consisting of II sail, when 
practising close in their own port. 
He succeeded in cutting off seven 
of these vessels, three of which he 
totally destroyed, but the other four 
sought protection under a battery. 
A Danish frigate, the Nayaden 
of 48 guns, and three sloops of war, 
which sailed from Gfrristiatisand, 
having been chased by our cruizers 
into Areuclahl in Norway, were, 
on the O'lh and 7th July, attacked 
at their anchorage under the batte- 
ries of that place, by the Dictator, 
Calypso, Podargus, and Flamer. 



It would be absurd to draw any j Notwithstanding the efforts of 25 
conclusion respecting the conduct l| gun-boats, the frigate and a sloop 
which the government of the United I of 20 guns were totally destroyed. 
Slates will adopt, from some recent j The two other vessels were taken 
proceedings of the legislature of by our gallant tars, but grounded iq 
that country. In the beginning of | getting out of the harbour, and 



no 



RETROSPECT OF POLITICS. 



might have been likewise destroyed, 
had not humanity forbidden the ge- 
nerous victors to set fire to them 
with so many wounded men as they 
had on board. This service was 
effected with the loss of 48 killed 
and wounded and 2 missing on our 
part. 

DOMESTIC INTELLIGENCE. 

Among the most important topics 
which have come before Parliament 
during the past month, was the 
question of the Catholic claims. On 
the 23d of June Mr. Canning, after 
an able speech, moved that this sub- 
ject should be taken into the most 
6erious consideration of Parliament 
early next session. This motion was 
carried by 235 votes against 106. 
A similar motion introduced in 
the House of Lords by Marquis 
Welleslcy was lost by a majority 
of 126 to 125. 

In consequence of a message from 
the Prince Regent delivered on the 
27th to both Houses, on the dis- 
turbances in the northern counties, 
a secret committee was appointed 
to examine the papers on the sub- 
ject communicated to Parliament. 
The report of the committee being 
brought up, was made the ground 
of a bill for the preservation of the 
public peace, and to enlarge the 
powers of the magistrates in the 
disturbed counties. There is, how- 
ever, reason to hope, that return- 
ing tranquillity will render it un- 
necessary to resort to any expedients 
beyond what the law has already 
provided. 

The official correspondence be- 



tween the French minister for fo- 
reign affairs and Lord Castlereagb, 
on the overture for peace made by 
Bonaparte to our government in 
April last, has been published in 
the French papers. The proposed 
basis was, that Spain should be 
guaranteed to the present dynasty ; 
that the house of Braganza should 
enjoy the sovereignty of Portugal ; 
and that Naples and Sicily should 
each remain in possession of their 
present monarchs. Lord Castlereagh 
replied, that the Prince Regent, 
before he authorized ministers to 
enter into any explanations on the 
subject of this overture, felt himself 
bound in honour to ascertain the 
precise meaning of the term " pre- 
sent dynasty ;" for if it were ap- 
plied to Joseph Bonaparte and his 
family j the obligations of good faith 
did not permit his Royal Highness 
to receive a proposition for peace 
founded on such a basis. It is 
not too much to assert, that Eng- 
land does not contain a single indi- 
vidual who can deny, that such a 
basis would be an infraction of every 
duty that binds man to man, or en- 
joins the generous and powerful to 
succour the distressed, and to repel 
cruel and unprincipled aggression. 



The King had on the 6th July a 
very severe attack of indisposition. 
The Prince Regent and the Royal 
Dukes immediately hastened to 
Windsor to attend their venerable 
and much afflicted parent, who, 
however, was the following day re- 
stored to his usual state. 




RJESS, 











. 






Ill 



PLATE 11. r.VENlNC DRE'S. 

A whit! crape robe, with short 
Circassian sleeves am! rlemi-high 
waist, with full (rills of lace — fhe 
robe worn over B while satin slip. 
Epaulets of variegated gold ba 



FASHIONS FOR LADIES. 

round the bottom, up the front, 
collar, and sleeve's, with full borders 
of plaited muslin. A white satin 
hussar cloak, ornamented wifh 
deep capes and antique floss trim- 
ming and tassels. A Lavinia hat 



fringe, ornamented at the feet, and ; of fine moss straw — a small cap of 
bottom of the waist to correspond, lace beneath, ornamented On one 
A Moorish turban of Indian gold !, side with a small bunch of flowers, 
muslin, with a cluster of flowers on ' and tied with cerulean Wile ribband 
the left side. Necklace, ear-rings, jj on the other. A rosary dress and 
and bracelets- of brilliants, pear!, i bracelets of the coqudla nut. Boots, 
or sapphire set in gold. Gloves of ij or Roman shoes, of blue kid. 
white French kid below the elbow. ; Gloves a lemon colour ; and parasol 
Slippers of white satin, with gold of correspondent shot sirsnet, with 
rosettes and fringe. Occasional deep ball-fringed awning. 

We are indebted to the unrival- 
led taste and invention of Mrs. 
Gill, of Cork-street, for these, as 
A plain jaconot or imperial cam- II for many others of the most elegant 
brie muslin round dress, formed J specimens of British costume which 
high in the neck, and trimmed [| embellish this work. 



scarfs of white lace. 

PLATE 12. — PROMENADE 
COSTUME. 



MEDICAL 

An account of the practice of a j 
physician from the 15th of June to 
the 15th of July, 1812. 

Acute Diseases. — Erysipelas, 1 

...Catarrh, 3 Rheumatism, 2 — 

Hooping-cough, 4... .Small-pox, 2 
...Hydrocephalus, 2. .Cholera, I... 
Tic Douloureux, 1 ....Intermittent 
fever, 1... Febrile complaints of in- 
fants, 4... Gout, 1. 

Chronic Diseases. — Pulmonary 

consumption, 3 — Asthenia, 8 

Cough and Dyspnoea, 9...PaIpita- |. 
tion, 2... Palsy, 1... Rheumatism, 4 j 
...Lumbago, J... Cephalalgia, 4... || 

Dyspepsia, 6 Gastrodynia, 3 — j 

Colic, 1... Diarrhoea, 3. ..Chronic j. 
hepatitis, 1... Dropsy, 1... Scurvy, 1 

No. XLIV. Vol. VIII. 



REPORT. 

1.. Scald-head, l..Itch, 6.. .Female 

complaints, 7. 

Though the last month has not 
been very productive of disease, 
and pulmonary complaints are re- 
duced, probably, to their minimum, 
yet some severe cases of illness have 
occurred. Amongst these are two 
instances of hydrocephalus, or water 
in the head. This disease generally 
aileefs children, but is sometimes 
met with in adults. The cases in 
the present report were both infants, 
between two and three years old. 
One of them died soon after my 
first seeing it, the other will most 
likely share (lie same fate. Little 
can be expected from physicians 

Q 



112 



AGRICULTURAL REPORT. 



when called in towards the termi- 
nation of these fatal disorders, ex- 
cept to intimate their extreme dan- 
ger. In this way numbers of chil- 
dren perish. By the time that the 
true nature of the disease is ascer- 
tained, in many instances, it is too 
late to apply that vigorous sort of 
practice which can alone afford any 
liope of success. 

It seems as if the parents and <he 
apothecaries, whom, in the first in- 
stance, they employ, are unwilling 
to suppose the child is affected with 
more than a slight indisposition, 
which may pass away with some 
trifling remedies. The disease, in 
fact, is often insidious in its ap- 
proach ; some of its early symp- 
toms resemble those of worms and 
dentition. In both these complaints, 
as in hydrocephalus, feverishness, 
restlessness, convulsions, fits, and 
disordered bowels are not unusual ; 
there is, therefore, considerable 
danger in treating merely a symp- 
tom, and losing the opportunity 
of effectually relieving the little 
sufferer by attacking the complaint 
itself. 

In offering these remarks it is not 
intended to call in question the 
judgment of either the parents or 
medical attendants, but simply to 



put them on their guard ; for in the 
commencement of hydrocephalus 
very acute observers are oftentimes 
deceived. Thus, grinding the 
teeth, and picking the nose, so 
frequent in worm cases, are not un- 
usual in hydrocephalus ; and flush- 
ed cheeks, restlessness, screaming, 
and moaning are common to it and 
dentition. But there is something 
in the aspect, a peculiarity in the 
physiognomy of a child labouring 
under water in the head, which 
strikes the experienced observer; as 
the disease advances, the frown, the 
knitting of the eyebrows, the squint- 
ing eyes and dilated pupils, the 
! torpor and indifference to surround- 
ing objects, interrupted by frequent 
starting, convulsions, and occa- 
sional shrieks, render the disease 
sufficiently distinct. It is often 
connected with scrofula and dis- 
eased liver. In these cases I am 
disposed to attribute it to causes 
which have existed long before the 
child was born; not that it is an 
hereditary disease, but, in such 
instances, the constitution of the 
infant is depraved by the previous 
habits of its parents ; and the great 
organs, the liver and brain, are 
incapable of performing their func- 
tions with due energy. 



AGRICULTURAL REPORT. 



The late heavy rains have thrown 
the crops down upon all the loamy 
soils, which will require a conti- 
nuance of dry weather to prevent 
their being hedge-grown in conse- 
quence of the lar^e bulk of straw. 

The wheat crops upon all the 
light soils will be much more than 
an average crop; those upon the 



strong clays are very indifferent, 
owing to the wet weather in March ; 
but upon the whole an average 
crop may be expected. 

Barley is a large crop, well eared, 
and much down, except by the 
sides of the furrows upon clay soils, 
where the ear is short and the stra\v 
weak. 



FRAGMENTS AND ANECDOTES. 



113 



Oats are in some districts an in- 
different crop, but in others there 
■will be more than an average pro- 
duce. 

Beans, peas, and the whole of 
the leguminous tribe are a full crop, 
"well podded, and more free from 
the fly than can be remembered for 
many years. The green peas that 
have been gathered for culinary use 
have been free from the maggot. 



The hay harvest has been some- 
what impeded at the beginning of 
the seabon, but much good hay has 
been secured. 

The young turnips are a promis- 
ing plant upon those soils that had 
a clean and well cultivated fallow. 

Apples are a partial crop, but 
pears abundant. The hops have 
much recovered, and require a con- 
tinuance of dry bright weather. 



Plate 10.— FASHIONABLE FURNITURE. 



The annexed plate represents a 
beautiful French scroll sofa, adapt- 
ed for the drawing-room, which 
may be made of rose- wood, with 
gold ornaments, and covered with 
rich chintz or silk tabouret, corre- 
sponding with the other parts of the 
furniture. It would also form a 



handsome sofa for the library, co- 
vered with Morocco leather, and 
the frame of mahogany richly orna- 
mented with brass. 

The accompanying French table 
forms an elegant lady's work-table, 
with silk bag, &c. en suite for the 
d rawing- roorn. 



MISCELLANEOUS FRAGMENTS AND ANECDOTES, 



DR. LEYDEN, 

Anecdotes of him by General Malcolm, 
Dr. Leyden had, from his ear- 
liest years, cultivated the Muses, 



I His Ode on the Death of Nelson 
is undoubtedly the best of those po- 
etical effusions that he has publish- 
ed since he came to India. The 



with a success which will make following apostrophe to the blood 
many regret, that poetry did not I of that hero, lias a sublimity of 
occupy a larger portion of his time, thought and happiness of expres- 
Tlie first of his essays which ap- i sion, which never could have been 
peared in a separate form was The j attained but by a true poet: — 
Scenes of Infancy; a descriptive 
poem, in which he sung, in no 
un pleasing strains, the charms of { 
his native mountains and streams I 
in Tiviot-dale. lie contributed se- 
veral small pieces to that collection 
of poems called The Minstrelsy of 
the Scottish Border, which he pub- 
lished with his celebrated friend 
Walter Scott. Among these The 
Mermaid is certainly the most beau- 
tiful. In it he has shewn all the 
creative fancy of a real genius. — 



" Blood of the brave, thou art not lost 

Amid the waste of waters blue ; 

The tide that rolls to Albion's coast 

Shall prbildiy boast its sanguine hue; 

And thou shalt be the venial dew 

To foster valour's daring seed ; 

The generous plant shall still itsstcek renew, 

And hosts of herotsiibe when one shall bleed." 

It is pleasing to find him on whom 
nature has bestowed eminent genius, 
possessed of those more essential and 
intrinsic qualities which give the 
truest excellence to the human cha- 
racter. The manners of Dr. Lcy» 
Q2 



M4 



FRAGMENTS AND ANECDOTES. 



den were uncourlly, more perhaps 
from his detestation of the vices too 
generally attendant on refinement, 
and a wish (indulged to excess from 
his youth) to keep at a marked dis- 
tance from them, than from any 
ignorance of the rales of good-breed- 
ing. He was fond of talking, his 
voice was loud, and had little or no 
modulation, and he spoke in the 
provincial dialect of his native 
country : it cannot be surprising, 
therefore, that even his information 
and knowledge, when so conveyed, 
should be felt by a number of his 
hearers as unpleasant, if not op- 
pressive. But with all these disad- 
vantages (and they were great), the 
admiration and esteem in which he 
was always held by those who could 
appreciate his qualities, became ge- 
neral wherever he was long known ; 
they even who could not under- 
stand the value of his knowledge, 
loved his virtues. Though he was 
distinguished by his love of liberty 
and almost haughty independence, 
his ardent feelings and proud ge- 
nius never led him into any licen- 
tious or extravagant speculation on 
political subjects. He never soli- 
cited favour ; but he was raised by 
the liberal discernment of his noble 
friend and patron, Lord Minto, to 
situations that afforded him an op- 
portunity of shewing, that he was 
as scrupulous and as inflexibly vir- 
tuous iu the discharge of his public 
duties, as he was attentive in pri- 
vate life to the duties of morality 
and religion. 

It is not easy to convey an idea 
of the method which Dr. Leyden 
used tn his studies, or to describe 
t$tf unconquerable ardour with 
which these were pursued. Dur- 
ing his early residence in India, 1 
I 

; 



had a particular opportunity of 
observing both. When he read a 
lesson in Persian, a person near him 
whom he had taught, wrote down 
each word on a long slip of paper, 
which was afterwards divided in- 
to as many pieces as there were 
words, and pasted in alphabeti- 
cal order, under different heads of 
verbs, nouns, &c. into a blank 
book that formed a vocabulary of 
each day's lesson. All this he had 
in a few hours instructed a very 
ignorant native to do, and this man 
he used in his broad accent to call 
" one of his mechanical aids." He 
was so ill at Mysore, soon after his 
arrival from England, that Mr. An- 
derson, the surgeon, who attended 
him, despaired of his life ; but 
though all his friends endeavoured, 
at this period, to prevail upon him 
to relax in his application to study, 
it was tfi vain. He used, when un- 
able to sit upright, to prop himself 
up with pillows, and continue his 
translations. One day, that I was 
sitting by his bed-side, the surgeon 
came in : " I am glad you are here," 
said Mr. Anderson, addressing him- 
self to' me, " you will be able to 
persuade Leyden to attend to my 
advice. I have told him before, 
and I now repeat, that he will die, 
if he does not leave off his studies 
and remain quiet." — " Very well, 
doctor," exclaimed Leyden, " you 
have done your duty, but you must 
now hear me : I cannot be idle ; 
and whether I die or live, the wheel 
must go round to the last :" and he 
actually continued, under the de- 
pression of a fever and a liver com- 
plaint, to study morethan ten hours 
each day. 

The temper of Dr. Leyden was 
mild and generous, and he could 



FRAGMENTS AND ANECDOTES. 



115 



bear, with perfect good humour, 
raillery on li is foibles. When he 
arrived nt Calcutta in 1805, I was 
most solicitous regarding his recep- 
tion in the society of the Indian 
capital. "I entreat yon, my dear 
friend," I said to him the day he 
landed, *' to be careful of the im- 
pression you make on your entering 
this community; for God's sake 
learn a little English, and be 
silent upon literary subjects, except 
among literary men." — "Learn 
English !" he exclaimed : " no, 
never : it was trying to learn that 
language that spoiled my Scotch ; 
and as to being silent, 1 will pro. 
mise to hold my tongue, if you will 
make fools hold their's." 

His memory was most tenacious, 
and he sometimes loaded it with 
lumber. When he was at Mysore, 
an argument occurred upon a point 
of English history : it was agreed 
to refer it to Ley den, and, to the 
astonishment of all parties, he re- 
peated verbatim the whole of an 
act of parliament in the reign of 
James I. relative to Ireland, which 
decided the point in dispute. On 
being asked how he came to charge 
his memory with such extraordinary 
matter, he said that several years 
before, when he was writing on thf 
changes that had taken place in the 
English language, this act was one 
of the documents to which he had 
referred as a specimen of the style 
of that age, and that he had re- 
tained every word in his memory. 

His love of the place of his nati- 
vity was a passion in which he had 
always a pride, and which in Indin 
he cherished with the fondest en- 
thusiasm. I once went to see him 
when he was very ill, and had beei 
confined to his bed for many days ; 



there were several gentlemen in the 
room — he enquired if 1 had any 
news; I told him I had a letter 
from L'skdale. " And what arc they 
about in the borders ?" he asked. 
" A curious circumstance," I repli- 
ed, " is stated in my letter :" and I 
read him a passage which described 
theconductofour volunteers on a fire 
being kindled by mistake at one of 
the beacons. This letter mentioned 
that, the moment the blaze, which 
was the signal of invasion, was seen, 
the Mountaineers hastened to their 
rendezvous, and those of Leddcs- 
dale swam the Ewes river to reach 
it. They were assembled (though 
several of their houses were at a 
distance of six and seven miles) in 
two hours ; and at break of day the 
party marched into the town of 
Hawick (a distance of twenty miles 
from the place of assembly), to the 
border tune of " Jf'ha dar meddle 
zzi* me ?'* Leyden's countenance 
became animated as I proceeded 
with this detail ; and, at its close, 
lie sprung from his sick bed, and 
with strange melody, and still 
stranger gesticulations, sung aloud, 
" Jf'ha dar meddle zcf me? Wha 
dar meddle w? me ?" Several of 
those who witnessed this scene, 
looked at him as one" that was raving 
in the delirium of a fever. 

These anecdotes will display more 
fully than any description I can 
rive, the lesser shades of the cha- 
racter of this extraordinary man. 
An external manner certainly not 
agreeable, and a disposition to ego- 
ism, were his only defects. How 
trivial do these appear, at a moment 
when wc are lamenting (iie loss of 
such a rare combination of virtues, 
learning, and genius, as were con- 
centrated in the late Dr. Leydcn! 



116 



PATTERNS OF BRITISH MANUFACTURE. 



PEPIN, KING OF FRANCE. 

This monarch was so diminutive 
in stature, that he obtained the sur- 
name of "Le Bref," or the Short, 
and several of the courtiers made 
him in consequence the subject of 
very illiberal jests. Pepin was in- 
formed of this, and resolved to es- 
tablish his claims to respect by some 
memorable incident. It wasnotlong 
before an opportunity offered. lie 
presented the public with an enter- 
tainment, in the course of which a 
bull, of a prodigious size, encoun- 
tered a still more formidable lion. 
The latter had already overthrown 
hisadversary, when Pepin, turning 
to h is courtiers, th us addressed them : 
" Which of you has courage suffi- 
cient, either to separate or to kill 
those furious animals ?" The pro- 
position alone made them shudder ; 
and no person ventured to reply. 
4i Perhaps so diminutive a being as 
myself can effect what I propose," 
observed the king sarcastically ; 
saying which, he drew forth his 
sabre, jumped into the arena, stab- 
bed the lion to the heart, and, with- 



out taking breath, cut off the bulPa 
head at a single blow ! The whole 
court was thunderstruck at the dis- 
play of such prodigious strength 
and unexampled boldness ; and, as* 
it ma3 r be supposed, the rcUly lords 
were thenceforward silent on the 
subject of his majesty's stature. — 
" David," observed the king, with 
heroic ardour, " was little, but he 
made the giant, who pretended to 
contemn him, bite the dust!" 

THE CAPTURE OF AN OPERA BOX. 

A facetious French abbe had en- 
gaged a box at the Opera, from 
which, after being seated, he was 
rudely turned out by a certain mar- 
shal of France. He brought his 
action in a court of honouiyand 
pleaded his own cause, beginning 
in this manner : " It is not of Mar- 
shal Turenne, who took so many 
towns; of Suffrein, who took so 
many ships ; or of Crillon, who 
took Minorca, that I have to com- 
plain ; but of that marshal, who 
took my box at the Opera," and 
never took any thing 1 else in the 
whole course of his life." 



ALLEGORICAL WOOD-CUT, WITH PATTERNS OF BRITISH 

MANUFACTURE. 



No. 1. A beautiful blue veletine, 
adapted principally for the pelisse 
and spencer, when the ball fringe, 
or gymp, or fancy trimming, to 
correspond, is both a requisite and 
tasteful addition. Its superior tex- 
ture and excessive neatness render 
it the most elegant article we have 
ever seen. Its beautiful simplicity 
cannot fail to attract great notice 
amongst the fair sex. It is sold by 
G. Sutton. 53, Leicester - square, 



whose judicious and extensive as- 
sortment in this line, renders his 
house deservedly much celebrated. 
No. 2. A bright yellow figured 
silk. This is a very tasteful article, 
and mostly made into short pelisses, 
spencers, or evening dresses. W T hen 
the two former are composed of this 
material, they may be ornamented 
in the same manner as the blue ve- 
letine mentioned above; but when 
it forms an evening costume, thread 



No. XLIV. August. 1812. 






f 



■// 



cv 



5V 



^ssas 



^ 



f*' 



Xt)e iReposttorp 

Of Arts, Literature, Commerce, Manufactures, Fashions, and Politics. 

Manufacturers', Factors, and Dealers in Fancy Goods, that come 
within the scope of this Plan, are requested to send Patterns of such new Articles, 
I as they come out; and if the requisites of Novelty, Fashion, and Elegance, are | 
I united, the quantity necessary for this Magazine will be ordered. 

I p=^ • 

R. Ackermann, 101, Strand, London. IF " 




«i 



# 




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£ 



> - 






POETRY. 



117 



lace and pearls are appropriate ap- 
pendages. It is sold by George 
and Bradley, Holywell-strcet. 

No. J. This is a most useful and 
economical article, of a delicate tex- 
ture, termed while chintz, which 
we have been favoured with by the 
bouse of Millard, in the city, where 
only it is to be obtained, and by 
whom it is manufactured. It con- 
tains three dresses in each piece, 
and is sold, we learn, at two guineas 
the piece, reducing the price of the 
dresses to fourteen shillings each. 
It is admirably adapted for the dif- 
ferent articles of morning costume 
and of children's wear. We un- 
derstand this article is unrivalled for 
durability, and for retaining a beau- 
tiful snowy white it equals the 
hummum and chorea, and surpasses 
the percoulaand izzaree, of Oriental 
produce, possessing a more elegant 
fall. The new arrivals of India 
shawls at this house, are, we learn, 



also of the most superb description 
and truly admirable. 

No. 4. This is a specimen in 
imitation of Morocco leather, and 
is now brought to inch perfection, 
j as to be applicable to every pur- 
I pose to which Morocco leather it 
\ converted, even to the manufacture 
j of ladies' slippers. A great ad van* 
| tage in this material is the capabi- 
| lity of its being made to any size 
i without the appearance of a seam. 
This article is appropriated also to 
covers of piano-fortes, card-tables, 
carriage linings, Sec. Its beauty 
and cheapness will make it a desir- 
able requisite for these purposes, as 
instead of diminishing, it will ra- 
ther augment the ornament of a 
drawing-room, &c. Mr. Andrew 
Gritlin, 46, Gloucester-street, Hox- 
ton, justly merits our warmest ap- 
probation and recommendation for 
this new device. 



$octrj\ 



JAMAICA. 

A FRAGMENT. 

By the late Bryan Edwards, Esq. 

[Continued from p. 58.) 

Regions of ancient glory, boa<;t no 

more 
Your cloud-crown'd summits ! Where is 

now thy pride 
Fam'd Apennine? Girt with atriplezone 
(Themselves a world), to Chili's south- 
ern bounds 
Stretch the vast Andes; with whose 

mighty crests 
Compar'd, the Alpine heights abash'd 

sink down 
Their heads astonicd ; and old Etna 

shrouds 
In smoke and murky flame his conscious 

shades. 



Nor let presumptous man, with bounded 
view, 

Arraign the Mighty Maker, and misdeem 

Of wisdom infinite, that varied thus 

The earth, and fix'd th' aspiring mound 
sublime! 

O rashly impious ye, who deem th' All- 
wise 

llathform'd aught erring : from theSov'- 
reign Hand 

Snatch the dread sceptre, and, far wiser 

ye. 

Sweep from th' astonish'd earth the Nu- 
bian hills, 

And Tibet's heights remote j or, bolder 
still, 

Bid Chimborazo* sink — and, lo ! (a 
name 



* Tbe Inches* of the Andes. 



118 



POETRY. 



Alone), Nilus and Ganges shall be sought 
In vain ; and wondrous Amazon no more, 
Monarch of floods, o'er leagues unnum- 
ber'd roll. 

For, from the boundless deep, by the 

hot sun 
Exhal'd, or on the wings of mighty winds 
Upborne, aloft th' aerial waters float 
Expansive: by th' attractive hills con- 

dens'd, 
The congregated vapours pond'rous pour 
Their liquid treasures, that would else 

perchance 
Roam useless through the void, or haste 

uncheck'd 
Back to their native sea, while the 

parch'd world 
In unextinguishable thirst would burn. 

Ev'n when relentless o'er th' Atlantic 

isles 
Brought lifts his iron hand (chief when 

the sun, 
Turn'd tow'rds the northern tropic, gives 

to blow, 
With strength redoubled, the diurnal 

breeze, 
While far aloof the spiry clouds are 

driv'n), 
Ev'n then yon tow'ring hills rise not in 

" vain : 
For still, at Heav'n's command, the deep 

unlocks , 

His unexhausted fountain, and his waves 
Pours thro' the secret mazes of the earth. 
In silent progress, permeates and ascends 
The finer fluid — from th' abhorr'd em- 
brace 
Dissolv'd, of pungent brine — 'till from 

the peak 
(That tow'rs with loftier brow, as wider 

spreads 
The subject continent), impetuous gush 
The defecated waters ; to the vale, 
Jocund they haste : the thirsty trav'ller 

hears, 
Well pleas'd, their voice soft warbling. 

Earth meantime 
In lovelier verdure blooms: the liquid 

train 



Bid soft fertility smile wide around, 
And spring awaits them ; till the deep 

recalls 
His truant offspring, and th'eternal round 
Again propitious speeds. So flows in man 
The crimson fluid, from the heart pro- 

pell'd, 
Thro'cells uncounted, to the heart again. 

Now, while pale Phosphor scarce his 
glimm'ring lamp 

Withdraws, and ere the short-liv'd twi- 
light flies, 

Wide o'er th' irriguous valley deep be- 
low, 

See the dense vapours (that in day's proud 
reign 

Inflated rise, and in the ambient air 

Melt from th' imperfect sight), by night's 
cold hand 

Compress'd, still linger o'er their parent 
springs — 

A wondrous scene ! to fancy's plastic 
eye, 

As if main ocean from his mound had 
broke, 

The world o'erwhelming! Nor reluctant I 

Quit sleep's soft empire, and, descend- 
ing prone, 

Yield my parch'd bosom to the chill em- 
brace : 

For, pleas'd, th' inspiring hour Hygei'a 
crowns, 

And renovated nature glad resumes 

Her vernal charms, and pours forth all 
her sweets. 

'Mid the deep wilderness, where spicy- 
groves 

Spontaneous rise, what grateful incense 
fills 

Th' attemper'd atmosphere ! Pimenta's* 
shades, 

Rich with oppressive bliss, the sense o'er- 
pow'r, 

And jasmin tendrils, with the Cyprian 
leaf 

* Jamaica pepper, or allspice. The bota- 
nic name is caryophijllus. Nothing can be 
more beautiful or delicious than a grove of 
these trees, which grow spontaneously and in 
great abundance in the parishes of St. Ann 
and Trelawny. It is peculiar to Jamaica. 



POETRY. 



119 



(The consecrated myrtle) glad enhvin'd, 

Their milder balms diffuse. Nor, coy, 
denies 

A brighter Flora to the op'ning dawn, 

Her beauteous tribute : o'er the fragrant 
hedge, 

Where the green lime her sweet refresh- 
ment breathe , 

Pride of the morn, in radiant beauty, 
blows 

The crimson sena*. To the soften'd 
skies, 

Meantime, ihe varying rosef (fair India's 
boast) 

Spreads her chaste bosom, in the lily's 
hue 

Array 'd ; 'till by the garish day op- 
press"d, 

Her ilowrets droop, and, deeply blush- 
ing, veil 

Their virgin glories. Beauty's emblem 
this — 

Our morning's wonder, and our evening's 
sighj. 

But transitory all ! — Ev'n while I gaze, 

The vision flies. Chang'd is the vernal 
scene, 

The cool, the shady ; nor the balmy 
tribes, 

Nor twilight's humid hand, can long thy 
rage 

Omnipotent, solstitial heat, repel ! 

From the piere'd vale th' incumbent va- 
pours rise, 

Into thin air diffus'd. The sultry blaze 

* The botanic name is poinciana. It is 
commonly known by the name of Burhadocs 
pride. Sir Hans Sloane calls it seno qntria, 
arborea spinosa, or bastard seua; and it has 
uearly the same virtues as the Alexandrine scna, 
and resembles it in the nod. The (lowers are 
transcendent ly beautiful, and make an elegant 
red syrup of a purgative quality, and the root 
affords a scarlet dye. 

T Commonly called the China rose, but im- 
properly : it is the bibiscus mulabitis, or change- 
able rose of Linnaeus. Early in the morning 
it is of a most perfect and beautiful white; 
about noon it assumes a rose colour ; and be- 
comes of a deep red at night, when it con- 
tracts and dies. 

X A line from Young's Night Thoughts. 

No. XLIV. Vol. VIII. 



Ascends all-conqu'ring, and the moun- 
tains burn. 

Yet tho' the glorious god (emerging thus 

In fierce effulgence) from the startled 
plains 

Lifts the dense curtain, he unfolds to 
view 

Far nobler scenes— thy triumph, Industry! 

And see, where, ocean-like, th' ambro- 
sial cane 

O'er many an acre spreads, 'till ocean's 
self 

Bounds the rich level, and exulting bears 

The golden produce on his burnish'd 
breast. — 

But thine the flowing charm, th' un- 
bounded range, 

Almighty Nature — thine the woodland 
reign ! 

Ev'n on the summit, by disparting clouds 

Reveal'd, and cliils. sublime, the palm- 
tree* tovv'rs, 

And stems of wondrous growth, sons of 
the zone, 

To whom ev'n Britain's oak dimiuish'd 
bends ; 

Th' immortal mastic, mammee'sf grace- 
ful shaft, 

And far-fam'd alcovant, spread deep 
around 

Impenetrable umbrage. Ceiba§ here 

Extends his uncouth arms, and scatters 
wide 

His silky down ; yet yields von mightier 

fisil 

* The species of palm here meant, is (he 
palnuto royal of Barbndoes, which, as .Mr. 
Long observes, is one of the most beautiful 
trees in the world. Ligon mentions some, ;.t 
the fiist settlement of BatJmdoea, above 200 
feet in height; and Ray speaks of another (J70 
feet 5 100 feet is a very common height. 

•f Bastard mammee, called by the Spauiau's 
Santa Mnria. 

J Mahogany, el coarano. 

§ The Spanish name of the wild cotton 
tree; its botanical name is tnmbax. 

|| This fig-tree iR called in the East Indies 
the banyan-tree. Mr. Ifaraden gives the fol- 
lowing account of the dimensions of one near 
Manjce, CO miles west of Patna in Bengal : 
diameter, 363 to 375 feel; circumference of. 
the shadow at noon, 11 16 feet; circumference 
R 



120 



POETRY. 



Pre-eminence: meantimeTomonashow'rs 
i — WarmM by the genial clime, un- 

courted show'rs — 
Her choicest treasures ; avocado mourns 
Her marrowy pear uncropt; and tam'- 

rind sheds 



Blend her mild melody ! The gen'ral song 
Lulls to soft slumber in the fev'rish hour. 
Yet thin the plumy choir — for nature, 

here 
Content t' have lavish'd on the feather'd 

race 



Her racy pods, and mild banana droops, |j All beauty's radiance, gives to other 

climes 
The tribes melodious : Philomel* alone 
— Not her the queen of European groves, 
Yet no mean rival — from the tow'ring 

palm 
Pours forth the note still varying : all th« 

night, 
Ev'n as the Philomel of British shades, 
She sings rejoicing. But afflictive heat, 
Intensely ardent, to earth's center now 
Hath pierc'd, and animated nature all 
Droops wearied ; to the gloomiest covert 

haste 
The plumy nations ; one alone except, 
The rav'ning gallinazof. With keen eye 
He dares th'unmitigated blaze, and tovv'rs 
Aloft — 'till pois'd on even wing, he marks 
— Far on the solitary shore remote — 
The pregnant cayman, with maternal 

care, 
Delve deep the burning soil, Lo ! this 

the hour 
(The world reposing, as if midnight 

reign'd,) 
She from the brackish stream, which 

mangrove shades, 
Creeps cautious ; and, by wondrous in- 
stinct led, 
To earth's all-fost'ring bosom soft con- 
signs 
The vital shell. The gen'ral mother, 

pleas'd, 
Receives th' incipient nature — soon to 

wake 
The latent life: but see, descending prone, 
Th* insatiate fowl th' incumbent glebe 

explores, 
And springs remorseless on his embry* 

prey. 
(To be continued.) 



Unnotie'd. These, and others number- 
less. 

Mock the proud infidel, and load pro- 
claim 

Almighty goodness, boundless love di- 
vine ! 

But now, rejoicing in his strength, the 
sun 

Mounts his meridian throne, and the 
wide heav'ns 

Blaze one vast field of undulating fire. 

Ye eastern skies, bid all your breezes 
blow ! 

— Ye vapours, screen me from the pierc- 
ing ray ! 

I faint — I burn. O spread the world of 
shade, 

Majestic cedar ! Open all your springs, 

Ye gelid fountains ! Bring your gifts, ye 
povv'rs 

That o'er these gardens of the sun pre- 
side : 

The gen'rous grape, the milky coco bring, 

Or bid the lemon and the pungent lime 

Their cooling bev'iage pour : my faint- 
ing soul 

Imbibes the melting pulp, and tastes of 
heav'n! 

Offspring of heat, and countless as the 
stars 

That beam resplendent round the throne 
of night, 

Gay insect tribes, ten thousand beaute- 
ous dyes 

And orient colours waving, in the shine 

Exulting sport. Their hum is harmony ; 

The voice perchance of gratitude to 
Heav'n ! 

How gently soothing, if the plaintive 
dove 



of tin- s< veral stems, in number fifty or sixty, 
g^i feet.—- Hiev. Sumatra, p. 131*. 



* The mock-bird, or American nightingale-. 

f The Turkey vulture, vulgarly called tbe 
carrion-crow. 



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122 



METEOROLOGICAL JOURNAL for June, 1812. 

Conducted, at Manchester, by Thomas Hanson, Esq. 



1*1*2- 






Pressure 


Temperature. 










JVina 












Weather. 


Emip. 


Rain. 


JUNE 




Max. 1 '. in. j 


Mean. 


Max. | 


Min. \ 


Mean. 


1 


S 


1 


29,70 1 29,50 


29,600 


66,0" 


52,0° 


59,00 « 


cioudy 


140 


.430 


D 2 


s w 


1 


30,00 


29,70 


29,830 


73,5 


47,0 


6o,25 


rainy 


— 


— 


3 


s w 


2 


30,12 


30,00 


30,060 


6s,o 


45,0 


56,50 


brilliant 


— 




4 


s 


I 


30, '.6 


30,10 


30,130 


6s. 


48,0 


58,00 


brilliant 


— 




5 


s 


2 


30,l6 


30,l6 


30,160 


74,5 


48,0 


6l,25 


brilliant 


— 




6 


s 


2 


30,30 


30,l6 


30,230 


72,0 


50,0 


6l,00 


brilliant 


— 




7 


SE 


2 


30,40 


30,30 


30,350 


75,0 


54,0 


64,50 


brilliant 


— 




8 


N 


2 


30,64 


30,40 


30,520 


66,0 


54,0 


6o,00 


gloomy 


— 




« 9 


N 


3 


30,64 


30,35 


30,495 


71,0 


52,0 


O1.50 


gloomy 


1,015 




10 


N 


2 


30,45 


30,35 


30,400 


64,0 


50,0 


57,00 


gloomy 


— 




li 


N 


3 


30,45 


30,19 


30,320 


66,0 


48,0 


57,00 


fine 


— 




12 


N 


2 


30,19 


3O.00 


30,09, 


64,0 


50,0 


57,00 


cloudy 


— 




13 


W 


2 


30,00 


29,75 


29,3/5 


6s, 5 


50,0 


59,25 


cloudy 


— 




14 


w 


2 


29,75 


29,65 


29,700 j 70,0 


54,0 


62,00 


cloudy 


— 




15 


w 


2 


29,65 


29,46 


29,555 70,0 


50,0 


60,00 


variable 


— 




i 56 


sw 


3 


29,5s 


29,45 


29,500 6y,o 


46,0 


57,50 


cloudy 


.730 


.270 


17 


IS 7 


2 


29,60 


29,4 3 


29,525 73,0 


47,0 


60,00 


rainy 


— 


— 


18 


s 


2 


29,60 


29,25 


29 425 60,0 


48,0 


54,00 


rainy 


— 


— 


19 


s 


3 


29,25 


29,00 


29,125 62,0 


45,0 


53,50 


cloudy 


.215 


1,305 


20 


vv 


2 


29,30 


28,98 


25,140 63,0 


45,0 


54,00 


cloudy 


— 




21 


w 


1 


29,50 


29,30 


29,400 63,0 


44,0 


53,50 


brilliant 


— 




22 


w 


1 


29,80 


29,50 


29,650 6l,0 


46,0 


53,50 


cloudy 


— 


— 


23 


w 


I 


29,95 


29,30 


29,875 1 65,8 


44,0 


54,50 


rainy 


— 


— 


24 


w 


1 


29,9« 


29,95 


29,9^5 | 73,0 ' 


43,0 


58,00 


cloudy 


— 




23 


w 


2 


29,93 


29,87 


29,925 ; 67,0 


4S,0 


57,50 


rainy 


.590 


1,140 


26 


w 


2 


29,93 


29,73 


29,85* 60,0 


46,0 


53,00 


cloudy 


— 




27 


w 


2 


29,83 


29,30 


29,815 j 64,0 


42,0 


53,00 


rainy 


— 


— 


28 


w 


1 


30,20 


29,80 


30,000 ; 65,0 


42,0 


53,50 


cloudy 


.305 


600 


29 


w 


2 


30,20 


30,')7 


30,135 | 65,0 


42,0 


53,50 


cloudy 


— 




30 


w 


1 


30,07 


29,69 


29,830 


71,0 


52,0 


6l,50 


rainy 


•195 


1,055 
4,8. 


Mean 


29,385 


M^ean 


57,49 




3,190 



RESULTS. 

Mean barometrical pressure, 29. 885 — maximum, 3064, wind N. 2 — minimum, 28 90, wind 

W. 2 — Range 1 .66 inch. 

The greatest variation of pressure in 24 hours, is .40 of an inch, which was on the 18th. 

Mean temperature, 57*49.— Maximum, 75° wind S.E. 2 — Minimum 42° wind VV 2— Range 33. 

The greatest variation of temperature in 24 hours is 3u°, which was on the 24th. 

Spaces described by the barometer, 5,90 inches — Number of changes, 3. 

Quantity of water evaporated from a surface of water, exposed to the action of the sun's rays 

and Wind, 3,190 inches. 
Rain, &c. thi.s month, 4.800 inches. — Number of wet days, 8 — Total raiu this year, 22.355 in. 

WIND. 
N N E E S E S S W W N W Variable. Calm. 
600163 14 O 

Brisk winds 4 — Boisterous ones 0. 
This month has been marked with unusually great changes of the barometer for this part of 
the year. On the 8th, the temperature indicated the mouthly maximum, and on the following 
day, the pressure shewed the same 5 the mercury then began to fall, and continued, with the 
exception of three trivial changes, to the 19th, when the barometer had lost upwards of an inch 
and a half of pressure. 

To the period of the maximum temperature of the month, the atmosphere was very brilliant ; 
when clouds gathered, and rain began to fall on the 16th, accompanied with slight hail showers. 
On the 17th there were much lightning and thunder in the afternoon, with a heavy and con- 
tinued shower of hail and rain. Frequent showers of rain, and a continued cloudy atmosphere, 
marked the remainder of the month. Tbe mean temperature is the same as that of June, 1811, 
and is four degrees higher than May, 1812. Prevailing winds West and South. On the 29th, 
being a day appointed for an aerial flight from Manchester, the weather proved tolerably fa- 
vourable ; the accumulated clouds in the foreuoon threatened raiu, but they partially dispersed 
and there were frequent gleams of sunshine Near two o'clock P.M. Mr. Sadler rose wiih his 
bai loon into the air, to the gratification of about a hundred thousand spectators ; he took a 
westerly direction. Before he ascended, the barometer stood at 30,10 inches, and the thermo. 
meter at 65° ; Mr S. rose till the mercury in his barometer fell to 15,5 inches, and the ther- 
mometer to 31°, when he experienced a great degree of told. Upon a calculation, his greatest 
height was three miles and 640 yards. He descended at Oak's Wood, about six miles north of 
Sheffield, having travelled fifty miles in 48 minutes. 



123 



METEOROLOGICAL TABLE for June, 1812. 

Conducted by Mr. J. Gibson, Laboratory, Stratford, Essex. 



1812 


Wind. 




/'/( wire. 


T< 


mperatm e. 


Weather. 


Ezap. 


Rain. 


j i N e 


Max. 


Mu,. 


Mean. 


Max. 


Min. 


Mean. 


i 


S 


29,9« 


29,37 


29,925 


66° 


49* 


57,5* 


showers 





__ 


J a 


s 


30,(10 


29,98 


29,990 


73 


54 


63,5 


clouds 


— 


— 


3 


Var. 


30,07 


30,00 


30,035 


06 


49 


57,5 


clouds 


— 





4 


Var. 


30,09 


30,07 


30,080 


74 


49 


6l,5 


tine 


.46 




5 


E 


30,13 


30,09 


30,110 


79 


51 


65,0 


fine 


— 




6 


N E 


30,20 


30,13 


30,165 


74 


49 


6l,5 


fine 


— 




7 


NE 


30,34 


30,20 


30,270 


79 


44 


6l,5 


fine 


.42 




B 


N E 


30,3b' 


30,34 


30,350 


68 


47 


57,5 


clouds 


— 




• 9 


N E 


30,30 


30,17 


30,265 


70 


51 


6o,5 


clouds 


— 




10 


NE 


30,27 


30,20 


30,235 


60 


44 


52,0 


cloudy 


— 


__ 


ii 


M W 


30,27 


30,09 


30,180 


76 


55 


65,5 


fine 


.62 




ia 


N W 


30,09 


30,00 


30,0-15 


77 


49 


63,0 


line 


— 




13 


S W 


30,00 


29,9 t 


29,970 


73 


53 


65,5 


clouds 


— . 




14 


W 


29,04 


29,87 


29,905 


79 


54 


66,5 


line 


— 




IS 


s 


29,88 


29,85 


29,805 


76 


52 


64,0 


cloudy 


•74 


.12 


t . ; a 


s\v 


29,85 


29,04 


29,745 


73 


52 


62,5 


cloudy 


— 


.16 


s w 


29,84 


29,64 


29,740 


66 


49 


57,5 


rainy 


— 


.37 


18 


s w 


09,64 


29,55 


29,595 


64 


56 


00,0 


rainy 


— 


-39 


19 


s \v 


29,55 


29,48 


29,515 


6s 


51 


59,0 


rainy 


— 




20 


s \v 


29,60 


29,43 


89,540 


66 


43 


57,0 


rainy 


•73 


.34 


2) 


s 


29,78 


29,60 


29,690 


67 


43 


57,5 


showery 


— 


.12 


22 


w 


29,83 


29,78 


29,830 


66 


46 


56,0 


showers 


— 


— 


23 


w 


29,99 


29,88 


29,9^5 


68 


49 


58,5 


clouds 


.45 


— 


24 


Var. 


29,99 


29,99 


29,990 


65 


46 


55,5 


clouds 


— 


— 


25 


Var. 


29,99 


29,74 


29,865 


67 


51 


59,0 


cloudy 


— 


— 


2(3 


Var. 


29,9" 


29,39 


29.745 


62 


43 


52,5 


rainy 


.24 


.95 


27 


N \V 


29,87 


29,59 


29,730 


66 


46 


56,0 


rain 


— 


.20 


23 


N VV 


30,0'J 


29,87 


29,980 


60 


41 


50,5 


line 


— 




29 


S W 


30,09 


30, 05 


30,070 


66 


50 


58 ,o 


clouds 


— 




3d 


S W 


30,05 


29,80 


29,925 


65 


5 4 


59,5 


cloudy 


.59 


.03 


Mean 


29,942 


Mean 


59,4 


Total 


4,30/tf. 


2,73/m. 



RESULTS. Prevailing winds, westerly. — Mean height of barometer, 29,942 inches — ther- 
mometer, 59,4°. — Total of evaporation 4,30 iuches. — Rain 2,73 inches — total in another 
guage 2,55 inches. 

Notes. — 8th. Cloudy morning. — 12th. A stratus on the marshes at night — 15th. Cloudy 
morning — 17th, lsth, 19th. Very showery days. — 24lh. Gloomy morning — 25th. A solar 
halo observed at a quarter past ten o'clock A. M. continued till near two o'clock, P. M. when 
it disappeared from increased cloudiness. Thecumulo-stratus prevailed throughout the day — 
evening fair. — 26th. Very rainy day — some thunder about two o'clock, P. M.— 27th. Solar halo 
again — less perfect. — 29th. Morning very fine — evening cloudy. 



Prices of Fire- Office, Mine, Dock, Canal, Water-Works, Rrei 
and Public Institution Shares, c\c. c\c. for July, IS 13. 



:cri/, 



Albion Eire and Life Assurance 
Eagle Ditto 



Hope 

East India Dock 

Commercial Ditto 

East London Water- Works 

West Middlesex Ditto 

Birmingham (.nil 

Coventry Ditto 

Croydon Ditto 

Dudley Ditto 

Graud Junction Ditto 



ice 


£48 p.sh 


'4 a 4 


12 do. 


2 lo 


dis. 


113 


per cent. 


140 


do. 


80 


per share 


46 


do. 


530 


do 


808 


do. 


20 


do. 


50 a 51 do. 


225 


do. 



£132 a 133 pr. sh. 



Grand Surry Canal 
Hmhicrsneld Ditto 
Kennet and Avon Ditto 
Rochdale Litto 
Leeds and Liverpool Ditto 
Lancaster Ditto 
Stourbridge Ditto 
London Institution 
Surry Ditto 
Rusvell Ditto 

Coveot Garden Theatre, 500Z. shares £425 do. 
Gas Light Company . . i.'2 5s. pin. 
TVOLEE & Co. 9, 'Changc-Ailey, Cornhill, 4- FORTUNE & Co. 13. Cornhill. 



20 


do. 


25 


do. 


39 


do. 


205 


do. 


21 10 


do. 


180 


do. 


50 10S. 


do. 


15 


do. 


18 gs. 


do. 



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THE 



Beposttorp 



OF 



ARTS, LITERATURE, COMMERCE, 

Manufactures , Fashions, and Politics, 

For SEPTEMBER, 1812. 

VOL. VIII. 



K\)t jFort^fiftlj .^timber. 
EMBELLISHMENTS. 

View of Queen-Suuaue, Bloomsblky 
Medallion of Napoleon King of Rome 
Ladies' Evening Dkess ..... 
Walking Duess ..... 



5. Drawing-Room Window Curtain ..... 

6. Allegorical Wood-cut, with Patterns of British Manufactures 

7. Patterns for Needle-Work ...... 

CONTENTS. 



Conversations on the Arts, by Juninus 125 
Historic Romances, or Wonders in 

Real Life 132 

Enquiry respecting the Kingdom of 
Nature in which a Wife should be 

classed 138 

On certain Matrimonial Plagues 

called Nurses 139 

The Conquest of the Island of Cele- 
bes, by Kotzebue 141 

The Modern Spectator, No. XVIII. 145 
On Commerce, No. XXIII. . . .148 
Fragments and Anecdotes. — The 
Empress Catharine — Remarkable 
Custom — Imperial Conscience — 
The Abbe Grancey — The Wal- 
denses and the Field - Mice — 
Archbishop Tillotson — Marsilius 
Ficinua — Philip the Bold and John 
without Pear — John, Duke of 
Anjou — Gratitude of Princes — 
Remarkable Antipathies — Scara- 
mouche — The Biter Bit . . .149 
Queen-Square, Bloomsbury . . . 1.5o 
Intelligence, Literary, Scientific, &c. ib. 
Musical Review, — Cramer's In- 
structions for the Piano-Forte — 
Latour's Musette — Stokes' Queen 



PAGE 

150 
164 
175 
176 
178 
179 
tit. 



PAG 5 



of the Silver Bow — Mugnie's 
(irande Sonate — "Ah! think of 
me" — Mazzinghi's Asturian Air, 
No. 10 — Gildon's Siege of Bada- 
joz — Wesley's Collection of Po- 
pular Airs, No. I. — Wall's Sonata 
for the Piano-Forte .... 159 
Napoleon King of Rome . . .164 
Retrospect of Politics. — Spanish Pe- 
ninsula — Battle of Salamanca — 
Spanish Colonies — Russia and 
North of Europe — United States 
of America — Naval Occurrences 
— Domestic Intelligence . . .167 

Fashions for Ladies 175 

Twenty-fifth Letter from a young 
Lady in London to her Sister in 

the Country 176 

Fashionable Furniture . . , .177 

Medical Report ib. 

Agricultural Report 17s 

Allegorical Wood-cut, with Patterns 179 

Poetry 18Q 

London Markets l .S3 

Meteorological Table — Manchester 184 
Prices of Companies' Shares . . ib. 
Meteorological Table — London . 185 
Prices of Stocks 186 



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For SEPTEMBER, \HV2. 



n% j?ortv;fifttj dumber. 



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The praise that's worth ambition, is atuiu'd 
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CONVERSATIONS ON THE ARTS.— By Jbninxjs. 

(Continued from p. GS.) 
Miss Eve. Do you Know the led lord lieutenant of the county of 



dates of Thomas Ord, Lord Jjolton ? 
Miss K. I have several of his 
caricatures etched by himself; he 
has genius, and draws with taste. 
Here is one of Voltaire, burlesqued 
for his pretensions to acting, under 
which is written — u The Hero of 
Ferney at the Theatre of Chate- 
laine." 

■ Pretend not too much, you only can write ; 
M Your lines draw my tears, your gestures the 
laugh." 

" T. O. fecit, 1772." 
This was etched from the life 
■when his lordship, then Mr. Orel, 
was travelling on the Continent. — 
His caricatures arc often to be met 
with in the print-shops, salts, Sec. 
In early life he was secretary to the 
Duke of Rutland, when lord lieute- 
nant of Ireland; and after his ele- 



Southampton, and governor and 
vice-admiral of the Isle of Wight. 
He died at his seat at Hackwood 
Park, Hi 1807, in his 61st year. 

Miss Eve. Who was Mr* Darly ? 

Miss K. About thirty years ago 
he kept a print-shop in the Strand, 
and published a great quantity of 
Maccaronis. 

Miss Eve. What are Macca- 
ronis ? 

Miss K. The term, borrowed 

from (he Italian, I believe, signifies 

an affected fop, He published the 

i first of Bunbury's sketches. Dar- 

j ling, the printseller, formerly of 

; Newport-street, was his pupil. 

Miss Eve* Have you any of 
Darly 's prints ? 

Miss AT. Here is one of an ass. 



tinder which is written- — " Engraved 

vation to the peerage, was appoint- ilfrom a fine original study, in black 
No. XLV. Vol. VIII. S 



126 



CONVERSATIONS ON THE ARTS. 



chalk, of Berghem, by Matt. Darly, 
in Cranbourn-alley, Leicester-fields, 
who teaches gentlemen and ladies 
the different manners of using the 
dry needle, engraving, &c." — 
This was before lie kept the print- 
shop in the Strand. 

Miss Eve. This is engraved in 
the scritch-scratch manner of Thos. 
"VVorlidge, the painter. 

Miss K. Yes, it is. 

Miss Eve. I intend to practise 
drawing a good deal from Wor- 
lidge's Gems. 

Miss K. They are very excel- 
lent, particularly the antique figures: 
they will much improve yon. — 
Darly died about thirty years ago. 

Miss Eve. It is remarkable that 
Darling the print-seller should be 
pupil to Darly the print-seller. 

Miss K. My aunt says, that 
Mrs. Darling, wife of the former, 
was in her youth a very beautiful 
woman, much respected, and one 
of the best shop women in London. 
They gained a competence, with 
which she retired. They have both 
been dead some years. A print- 
seller named Thompson now keeps 
a shop on 'the spot where they re- 
sided, in Great Newport - street, 
Long-Acre. He bought the plates 
of Simpson, the drawing-master, in 
St. Paul's church-yard. 

Miss Eve. Who is Simpson? 

Miss K. He was in hisearly youth 
an engraver, many years a draw- 
ing-master, and taught at boarding- 
schools. He was master to Richard 
"Westall, R. A. ; Garrard, the horse- 
painter ; Carlisle, now lecturer on 
anatomy to the Royal Academy, and 
many others. 

Miss Eve. I thought that West- 
all was apprentice to Thomson, a 
silver - engraver in Gutter - lane, 
Chuapside. 



Miss/if. Yes, but Simpson taught 
him the elcmentsofdrawing. Simp- 
son retired with an independence to 
Homei ton near Hackney, where he 
died, in May 1808. 

Miss Eve. Who was C. Mosley? 

Miss A'. About half a century 
ago he designed humorous prints, 
chiefly of a political kind. Ho- 
garth and this artist engraved The 
Gates of Calais, or the Roast Beef 
of Old England. The song was 
written by Henry Howard, the en- 
graver. — Here is a singular print 
engraved by Mosley from De la 
Caire — " A Representation of the 
Shooting of the three Highland- 
ers, Samuel M'Pherson, Malcolm 
M'Pherson, and Farquhar Shaw, 
at the Parade in the Tower, July 
19, 1743." 

Here is another curious print, 
called The Flitch of Bacon, painted 
on the spot by David Ogborne. I 
forgot to mention this humorous de- 
signer, as well as Wm. Peters, for- 
merly R. A. who designed Sharp- 
ers cheating at Cards, — The print 
of which I was speaking was en- 
graved by Mosley ; under it is writ- 
ten : " Perspective View of Dun- 
mow, late the Priory, in the county 
of Essex, with the ceremony of 
demanding the Flitch of Bacon, 
Thursday, 20th of June, 1751, by 
Thomas Shakeshaff, weaver, and 
his wife. Before the dissolution of 
monasteries, it docs not appear, by 
searching the most ancient records, 
to have been demanded above three 
times, and, including this, just as 
often since. Pub. 1752." 

Thomas Shakeshaft and his wife 
received the gammon of bacon at 
the above time, having first knelt 
down on two bare stones within the 
church-door, and taken the oath, 



CONVERSATIOXS ON THE ARTS. 



127 



pursuant to ancient custom, in the 
manner and form prescribed : — 

Vou shall swear by the custom of our con- 
fession, 
That you never made any nuptial transgres- 
sion, 
Since you were married man and wife, 
By household brawls, or contentions strife ; 
Or otherwise in bed or at board, 
Offended each ether in deed or word; 
Or since the parish clerk said Amen, 
Wisli'd yourselves unmarried again; 
Or in a twelvemonth and a day 
Repented not in thought any way; 
But continued true and in desire 
As when you joined hands in holy quire : 
If to these conditions, without all fear, 
Of your own accord, you will freely swear, 
A gammon of bacon y'ou shall receive, 
And bear it hence with love and good leave, 
lor this is our custom at Dnnmow well known; 
Though the sport Le ours, the bacon's \i>ui own. 

Miss Eve. Do you know any 
particulars of Julius Ibbcison, one 
of the unsuccessful candidates? 

Miss K. lie formerly lived in 
Silver-sit oof, Golden-square, and is 
an excellent painter of landscape 
and animals. He deserves lo be 
an R. A. as well as several who pos- 
sess that distinction. He has pro- 
duced a large design of sailors ca- 
rousing with their girls. This print 
is in mezzotint, and has merit. You 
•were joking about such scenes ; you 
never disguised yourself, to attain 
improvement from genuine nature 
in this way, I believe. 

Miss Ere. My town-house you 
know is in V/ellclose-square, Goud- 
manVfielc's. This almost joins to 
Wrapping. The other night as I 
was going home, I beard one of 
these girls with sailors singing to a 
fiddle, in a public-house near the) 
London Dock. There was a little J 
space between the scarlet curtains, 
that one might see what was passing. 
I embraced this convenience, and | 
peeped and listened, as 1 was curi- ' 



ous to know what song such a girl 
would select. 

Miss K. And what song was it ? 

Miss Eve. A lew days after- 
wards I procured it of a woman 
who usedtosellsongsagainstDrnry- 
Ianc Theatre, and learned it. 'Tis 
not bad ; I will sing it softly to you. 
It is called The unhappy Bride — 
she could not claim the flitch of 
bacon. 

J *au a woman who looked like 
Diana Trapes in Gay's Beggars 7 
Opera, but lustier, bringing in a 
bowl of liquor, grog 1 suppose. 
She seemed highly delighted, and 
shook her fat sides. This 1 imagine 
was the Wapping Landlady. She 
might, perhaps, have sung with 
more truth Diana Trapes's song: 

In the (lays of my youth I could bill like a 
dove, &c. 

They now generally leave (his old 
lady out of the Beggars^ Opera 
when this piece is performed, which 
destroys the contrast ; and they 
oftetj turn this downright English 
opera, into an Italian I don't know 
what, with their bravuras, &c. 
This is very injudicious. How Gay 
would reprobate such liberties! 

I remember when I was a little 
girl I saw a piece, entitled The 
Wapping LanJ/aiKy, performed by 
some actors in Eissex. In the lirs.t 
scene entered a sailor, and then 
the landlady. " My dear Jack," 
says she, " how glad I am to see 
you ! How rejoiced you will make 
us all ! Bridget, Kate, Sally, Nancy, 
Poll, and all the girls will be so re- 
joiced ! They have done hardly 
any thing but talk of you, and have 
dreamt of you every night, ever 
since you left us." Here she calls 
the girls, who enter. li Why, mo- 
ther," s:iys Jack, " this is kind.*' 
S 8 



123 



CONVERSATIONS ON TUB ART8. 



She enters with a bowl of punch. 
<i I have one observation to make," 
he continues, " but that will make 
no difference — I have spent all my 
money." Here is such a change, 
and at Inst he goes oat of the house. 
He meets Tom well supplied with 
gold, who lends Jack a quantity of 
the precious metal. lie cannot well 
count the sum wanted, but at last 
he says, " Take a handful, Jack, 
and give me a handful another time." 
Tom comes in richly laden, and is 
received like Jack. While ihcy 
are dancing, the old woman, girls, 
and all, round a bowl of punch, 
Jack peeps in at dne corner. The 
old woman beckons hira to begone, 
being considered as an intruder. 
At last she seizes a broom to drive 
him away, when he holds up his 
purse of guineas and shakes it at 
ber. The musical song of these 
goldfinches has such an effect on 
the old woman, that she seems elec- 
trified, throvs down the broom, and 
immediately catches hjm in her 
arms, crying, " O my dear Jack, 
f was only joking ! Sure you could 
never think me in earnest!" On 
this he goes in, and joins in the 
dance. 

Miss A'. It is said of these men, 
that they get money like horses and 
spend it like asses ; but they enjoy 
themselves when on shore, as well, 
perhaps, as any other class of peo- 
ple that can be mentioned. 

Miss Ere. Who is Charles 
White, one of the humorous de- 
signers whose name you have intro- 
duced in this list ? 

Miss JC. He was a young man, 
all good-nature, frolic, and fun, a 
real Sir Harry Wihlair, with a dis- 
position so generous and free, that 
he was like the Tom you have ju&t 



mentioned, who accommodated Jack' 
How often convivial societies have 
rejoiced in the election of Charles 
White as their president ! Many 
artists now living know tlm to be 
no exaggeration. He was pupil to 
Robert Pranker, the engraver, who 
married one of Gerard Vander- 
gucht's daughters ; White married 
another, Jane, a younger sisler of 
Mrs. Pranker, who, after his death 
in 1785, at the age of 54, commenc- 
ed print-seller in Tavistock-street, 
Covent-Garden, and also sold fancy 
ornaments for the ladies. In (his 
shop she was assisted by her daugh* 
ter Mary, then about fourteen years 
of age. Here they continued some 
years. My aunt bought this fire- 
screen and that flowered work-bag 
at this shop. Charles White's larg- 
est humorous design is a Masquer- 
ade at the Pantheon. He also en- 
graved this print, published in 1773, 
with the assistance of an artist 
known by the name of Tom Smith, 
pupil to Charles Grignion, and of 
the same good-natured stamp as 
himself. He soon after had an 
estate of ^SOO. a year left him. 
Before this circumstance, as good- 
natured fellows have generally a 
nick-name (which never affronts 
them), he was called Laughing 
Smith ; but he was now dignified 
with the title of Squire Smith. He 
died of a fever about the same time 
and age as White, was buried in 
Clerkenwell church, with some mag- 
nificence, and left mourning rings 
to many artists. 

Miss Eve. Smith is a very com- 
mon name. There are more persons 
of this name, I believe, than of any 
other. 

Miss K. I have prints in the 
btroke-manner by Anker — Edward 



C0.NVEH8ATI0NS OX THE AHTg. 



129 



— Gabriel — George Langly- James 
— John — Joseph — Joseph Claren- 
don — J. T. — Robert — Samuel, and 
Thomas Smith ; also mezzo t in tos 
by (hose geniuses, John and John 
Raphael Smith, (lie last, as has been 
often observed, not feast of the two. 

Miss Eve. If any one in a crowd- 
ed church were to cry ou( — u Mr. 
Smitli's house is on fire !" 

Miss K. Yes, what a number 
would (ake (he alarm ! 

Miss Eve. In my fancy I think 
I can see (hose two social artists, 
White and Smith — like master, 
like man — at work in (he same room, 
one m akin g jokes and telling his ad- 
ventures, and the other laughing At 
them. 

Miss K. They were both jokers 
and both laughers. 

.Miss Eve. I think gome of these 
working people live very happily 
in their work-rooms — engravers, 
jewellers, watchmakers, and such 
like, where the master is generous 
and benevolent, and likes to see (hose 
about him enjoy themselves and be 
happy ; throwing down the north 
light window on the 6ullry summer 
day ; and when the bleak north 
wind whistles, and blows the (laky 
snow and sleet between their case- 
ment and the dark winter sky, 
making the brightened fire blaze — 
go snug, so warm, so comfortable — 
amused by their work and talk, and 
enjoyingthe smell of their approach- 
ing dinner. 

Miss K. You are a genius, Miss 
Eve, and, like all geniuses, you are 
benevolent, you like to see others 
happy, and to enjoy such pictures 
as this. Masters should sec this sen- 
timent of yours, and imitate it. 

Charles White was also an excel- 
lent singer. J am informed that ar- 
ticles were once drawn up between 



him and the manager of Vauxhall 
Gardens, to sing there for the sea- 
son, lie was also invited by the 
manager of one of the royal thea- 
tres to attempt the part of Macheath, 
in which it is thought he would 
have been but little inferior to 
Webster. He would have made au 
excellent student in some particu- 
lars in the academy which you pro- 
posed for the study of genuine na- 
| lure. 

Miss Eve. What did Charles 
Whi(e produce besides humorous 
designs ? 

Miss K. Ruins of Rome and 
Companion ; many book - plates, 
some for Bell's Poets , from Stot- 
hard — Bell lived at a shop near Ex- 
eter Change, in the Strand ; plates 
in stipple, from Stothard, J. II. 
Ben well , etc. ; and many others. 
Here is a slight print of his w hen he 
was about 19 years of age — The 
Frenchman in London, from John 
Collet, published Nov. 10, 1770, 
by It. Sayer, 53, Fleet-street ; John 
Smith, Hogarth's Head, 35, Cheap- 
side; and Wm. Darling, Great 
Newport-street, Long-Acre. He 
also engraved many botanical sub- 
jects for Dr. Hill, and these and 
other subjects in natural history for 
Sir Joseph Banks and Dr. Solan- 
dcr, collected in their voyage round 
the world ; and the curiosities in 
the British Museum for John Van 
Ryrnsdyk, who was a {painter and 
engraver in Charles-st. St. James's* 
square, father to Andrew Van Ryms* 
dyk, who was likewise a painter and 
engraver, as well as a theatrical per- 
former. Large prints are to be seen 
in the shops by Andrew Van Rymsp 
dyk, which he engraved from the 
old masters at the age of 12 and 14, 
about the year 1770. 

Miss Eve. Dp you know the 



130 



CONVERSATIONS ON THE ARTS. 



dates of the Vanderguchts ? When 
was Mrs. White's father born ? 

Miss K. About the year 1696. 
He died in Great Brook-street, in 
March 1776. His name was Gerard. 
He and his father engraved a va«>t 
quantity of prints, chiefly book- 
plates. 

Miss Eve. Do you know the dates 
of Gerard's father ? 

Miss K. Here is a small extract 
from Horace W A pole's book : — 
** Michael Vandergucht of Ant- 
werp was scholar of one Boutats, 
and master of Vertue, who was told 
by him, that Boutats had four 
daughters and twenty sons, of whom 
twelve were engravers ; and that 
one of them, Philip, had twelve 
sons, of whom four were engravers. 
Vandergucht's family, though not 
so numerous, has been alike dedi- 
cated to the art. When M. Van- 
dergucht arrived here does irot ap- 
pear. He practised chiefly on ana- 
tomical figures, but sometimes did 
other things, as a large print of the 
Royal Navy, on a sheet and a half, 
designed by one Baston. His mas- 
ter-piece was reckoned a print of 
Mr. Savage. He was much afflict- 
ed with gout, and died October 



16, 



1725, aged 65, 



at his house in 



Bloomsbury, and was buried at St. 
Giles's. He left two sons, John and 
Gerard." 

Miss Eve. Does Lord Orford 
mention any thing about John Van- 
dergucht ? 

Miss K. He says, that he was 
born in 1697 : he learned to draw 
of Cheron, and of his father to en- 
grave, but chiefly practised etch- 
ing, which he sometimes mixed 
with the other. He studied too in 
the Academy : his six academic 
figures, after Cheron, were admired ; 



and he is much commended by Che- 
selden in the preface of his Osteo- 
logy, in the prints of which he had 
much share, as he had in the plates 
of Sir James ThornhilFs cupola of 
St. Paul's. There is a print by him 
from Poussin'a picture of Timer cd 
and Erminia. 

Miss Eve. What do yon think 
of Wal pole's book ? 

Miss K. I think a person should 
be an artist, to write on the arts. 
Even Burke, Dr. Johnson, and Dr. 
Walcot woiiid shew great ignorance 
when they descended to particulars, 
if they attempted to write in thia 
way. Shakspeare himself, in the 
last act of the Winter's Tale, makes 
one of the courtiers of the King of 
Sicily say, that the statue of Her- 
mione was by that celebrated Italian 
sculptor, Julio Romano, though 
Julio Romano never attempted to 
make a statue in his life. 

There is a drawing-book in yon 
drawer, that says, in order to draw 
in a good style, we must make use 
of a crow-pen, to obtain which we 
should go into the fields about Au- 
gust, and look for crow-quills ; and 
that to lay an etching ground (tho' 
the plate is burning hot), we should 
dab the ground with the ball of the 
thumb ; and to bite in the etching, 
we are to put the plate slantways, 
and to sluice it with aqua-fortis from 
a pitcher. 

Walpole calls the elder Vander- 
gucht Michael. I am informed that 
his christian name was Martin. I 
suppose Walpole saw M. to some 
prints, and thinking it was very 
likely to stand for Michael, ran the 
hazard of so calling him. 

Miss Eve. 1 have seen the draw- 
ing-book which you mentioned just 
now. It says, after the drawing is 



CONVERSATIONS ON THE AIITS. 



131 



finished, it should be polished with 
a dog's tooth. 

Barry considers Edward Penny 
equal, if not superior, in merit to 
Hogarth. 

Miss K. The sun has spots, a 
diamond flaws, even the pope is 
not infallible: Barry bere probably 
wrote under the influence of some 
bias. 

Miss Eve. 1 should have thought 
(hat one of the prizes would have | 
been adjudged to Smirke. 

Miss K. The great geniuses who 
decided t lie prizes, think but little 
of finishing ; they bestowed great 
attention on the thoughts or sketch- 
es. Reynolds observes, that t lie 
high finishing of the Dutch painters 
arose chiefly from the heaviness of 
their genius. 

Miss Eve. The same writer, in 
his Lectures, says, that some paint- 
ers will not copy nature, and even 
declare that nature puts them out. 

Miss K. Here Reynolds was not 
aware that he was talking of people 
who knew more than himself in this 
particular. Tliey formed a great 
totality, or harmony of lines, in their 
pictures, of which he was ignorant, 
though he possessed a sagacity that 
would have enabled him to under- 
stand this great principle in less 
than five minutes, had he chanced 
to have met with any one to instruct 
him. 

Miss Eve. What do you think 
of John Collet, the humorous de- 
signer, who is mentioned in your 
list? 

Miss K. He was a man of genius, 
generosity, and benevolence, He 
possessed' an estate that made him 
independent of the world ; and his 
tenants, knowing his disposition, 
often kept from paying much of 



their rents. I am informed that he 
died a few years ago, in Cheyne- 
row, Chelsea. 

Miss Eve. You may know good- 
natured and benevolent people, 
by observing that they are always 
much imposed upon. The artful 
and the base keep each other as 
tight as the strings on a fiddle. 
What were Gerard Vandergucht's 
engravings ? 

Miss A'. Walpole says that he 
hardly did any thing, but chiefly 
spent his time in picture-dealing- 
This is a mistake. J have a nume- 
rous collection of prints by Gerard 
Vandergucht. When I first began 
painting, J painted four sets of fire- 
screens for my aunt, four in each 
set, and took the idea from these 
large prints by this engraver. These 
you see are four large prints of dead 
game and four of fish, grouped ac- 
cording to the four seasons of the 
year, from paintings by Rysbrack. 

Miss Eve. What character there 
is in them ! How well they are 
etched ! 

Miss K. Bartolozzi never etched 
better. These I copied, and added 
to them two other sets of fiuit and 
flowers. They make ornamental 
fire-screens, and my aunt generally 
uses those which accord with the 
season. I am often complimented 
on the thought, though that is Rys- 
brack's. 

Walpole also says of John Van- 
dergucht, that he engraved the IIis~ 
lory of St. Paul) by Thornhill, in 
the cupola of that cathedral. This 
is a mistake : if we look at the 
prints we shall see written, " En- 
graved by G. Vandergucht and B. 
Baron." He engraved a large p'ate 
of King Charles the FirsCs Decla- 
ration to his Gentry and his Army 



132 



HISTORIC ROMANCES, 



in 1642, and a hundred others (hat I 
I could mention. On this table is j 
one of his frontispieces to a book 
entitled, The Universe, a philoso- 
phical poem, intended to restrain 
the pride of man, a work of merit, 
by Henry Baker, P. R. S. F. S. A. 
who married Sophia, youngest 
daughter of the celebrated Daniel 
Defoe. Vandergucht also engraved 
many plates for Cervantes' novel of 
Don Quixote. This is the best no- 
Tel extant. 

Miss Eve. The critics objected 
to it, because it was written by a 
soldier who had but one hand, the 
other having been shot ofFin battle. 
How pitiful ! as if a man wrote with 
his hand ! 

Miss K. They also made great 
objections to Ramsay's Gentle Shep- 
herd, because Ramsay was a barber, 
and observed, that he had better 
devote his time to shaving than 
writing. 

Miss Eve. Did Ramsay answer 
their objections ? 

Miss A". Yes; or rather he gave 
his reasons for not answering them. 
He says, 

Old Homer sung for his daily bread, 
Surprising ShakBpeare fin'd the wool, 

Virgil crails and baskets made, 

And old Ben Jonson wield the trowel ; 



Yet Soraerviie and Lauderdale, 
And many more of men the vail, 
Were proud to be enroU'd 'mong US. 

A mastiff scorns a yamping cur, 

A rock defies a frothy wave ; 
Nor will a lion raise his fur, 

Altho' a monkey misbehave. 

Miss Eve. Peter Pindar, speak- 
ing of fame, says — 

True fame is praise by men of genius giv'n, 
Whose souls betray some workmanship of 

Heav'n ; 
Not by the wooden million, nature's chips, 
Whose darken'd souls are ever in eclipse ; 
Puppies, who, tbo' on idiotism's dark brink, 
Because they've heads, dare fancy they can 

think. 

This Allan Ramsay was father, I 
believe, to the celebrated painter of 
the same name, who painted his 
Majesty's picture in Guildhall. 
What were their dates ? 

Miss K. Allan Ramsay the poet 
is said to have been son to a miner, 
employed by Lord Ilopetoun, and 
born at the lead-mines of Crawford 
Muir, in 1686. About 1700 he was 
apprenticed to a barber at Edin- 
burgh, where he died in 1757. He 
was the first person that established 
a circulating library in Scotland. 
His son, painter to his Majesty, was 
born about 1713, and died in 17S4. 
Juninus. 



HISTORIC ROMANCES, OR WONDERS IN REAL LIEE. 

Extracted from the Port-Folio, published by Messrs. Bradford and Inskeep, of 

Philadelphia. 



It is np reasonable subject of won- 
der, that the taste of the public, in 
a reading age, should be attracted 
to that style of narrative which is 
termed romance. It is a reasonable 
subject of astonishment, however, 
that the writers of the day have so 
puzzled themselves by having sole- 



ly recourse to their fancy, when 
even the pages and records of histo- 
ry may furnish them with infinitely 
better subjects. In some of the state 
trials in France and Italy are con- 
tained narratives, which, together 
with their romantic horror and atro- 
city, have annexed to them that su- 



0.1 WONDERS IN REAL LIFE. 



133 



perior interest "which always belongs 
to truth. The following is a talc of 
this kind : it is no farther altered or 
added to by us than by taking it out 
pf its quaint and antiquated style, 
and omitting some letters which on- 
ly interrupted the action. 

In the city of Valines, in the pro- 
vince of IJretagne, in Fiance, lived 
a gentleman of noble family and 
great wealth; bis name was Mon- 
sieur de Caerstaing. By his lady, 
Madame tie la Vallc Blanche, lie had 
two sons, the eldest named Qu; t- 
trcsson, the youngest Valfontaine; 
the former being about twenty-eight 
years of age, the latter about twen- 
ty-three, and both of them accom- 
plished according to their rank. 
Valfontaine, being on a visit to his 
uncle in the city of Nantz, became 
there acquainted with a lady of the 
name of La Pratiere, a young wo- 
man of exquisite beauty, and not 
inferior to him either in birth or for- 
tune. Valfontaine, therefore, took 
the first opportunity of declaring 
his passion io this rich heiress, and 
was by the young lady referred to 
her father. It is needless, perhaps, 
to mention, that La Pratierc herself 
was friendly to his addresses. M. 
de Pennelle, the father of the young 
lady, entertained Valfontaine very 
courteously for two or three days ; 
but when the young man mentioned 
his business, replied, that he had 
other views for his daughter. The 
matter of fact was, that Valfontaine 
■was merely a younger brother, and 
therefore did not answer the wishes 
of de Pennelle. 

Upon Valfontainc's return to his 
father's house at Vannes, he acknow- 
ledged his love for La Pratierc, and 
solicited his interposition with her 
father. Both of his parents appro- 
ve. XLV. Vol. VIII. 



ved of his choice, but did not deem 
it consistent with their rank to de- 
scend to solicitation. They declin- 
ed, therefore, thisoflice. Valfontaine 
next applied to his brother Quat- 
tresson, and entreated him to make 
a journey to Nantz, and become his 
advocate with M. de Pennelle. 
Quattresson readily yielded to his 
brother's request; and his father sit 
tar seconded (he purpose of the visit, 
as to give him a letter to de Pennelle, 
expressive of his consent to the uni- 
on of their families. 

Quattresson arrived at Nantz a 
short time before the family were 
going to dinner. He delivered his 
father's letter, and was introduced 
by de Pennelle to his daughter. Her 
exquisite beauty produced a fatal 
impression on him. In a moment 
he forgot his brother, and resolved 
to supplant him. 

Under some pretext La Pratiere 
accompanied him into the garden, 
probably because she expected that 
lie had some letter from her lover. 
Quattresson very eagerly accompa- 
nied her. After a pause of a few 
minutes, taking her hand : — "I have 
something most important to com- 
municate toyon, but you must swear 
tobesecret. It intimately concerns 
your future welfare, but I cannot 
communicate it to you on any other 
condition, than that you pledge 
yourself by your honour and salva- 
tion to secrecy," 

La Pratiere wondering at Uie 
strange nature of this request, for 
Some moments stood mute; but at 
length remembering that Valfon- 
taine was her lover, and Quattres- 
son his brother, began to imagine 
that there was some contrivance be- 
tween them, if they should not suc- 
ceed with her father, to steal her 

T 



m 



HISTORIC ROMANCES, 



away. Under this impression slie 
granted his request. Quattresson 
then made a full acknowledgment of 
Ji is dishonourable passion, lamenting 
his treachery as an invincible mis- 
fortune, and imputing 1 it to her ex- 
quisite beauty. La Pratiere was for 
some time in too much confusion to 
stop him in (his offensive discourse, 
butat length interrupted him : "Sir, 
to have offered this unkindness to a 
friend would have been treacherous 
and ignoble in the extreme ; but 
I know not what to term it when the 
object of this perfidy is your own 
brother. I have only to add, that 
your insanity, for such, sir, I must 
term it, has totally overpowered me, 
and I would sooner be in my tomb 
than connect myself with one so de- 
stitute of all honourable feeling." 

Quattresson, being not merely 
half a villain, resolved not to be re- 
pulsed in this manner; he accord- 
ingly made a polite bow to the 
lady, and without farther ceremo- 
ny proposed himself at once to her 
father. He was encouraged to this, 
perhaps, by having learned the 
old gentleman's character from his 
brother. His expectation was not 
disappointed; Pennelle embraced 
the offer; desired Quattresson to 
leave every thing to his manage- 
ment, and promised him eventual 
success. Under this persuasion 
Quattresson took his leave, and 
returned to his brother, to whom he 
g;:ve some false account of the state 
- of things at Pennelle's, advising him 
to think no more of La Pratiere, as 
her father was decidedly against his j 
proposals. 

By some means or other, most 
probably by the communication of ' 
La Pratiere, Valfontaine soon learn- i 
ed the perfidy of his brother, and 



openly taxed him with it. Quat- 
tresson, denying it with his tongue, 
confessed it with his countenance. 
Valfontaine, however, fully satis- 
fied of the honour and love of his 
mistress, and perhaps deeming her 
beauty a strong excuse, contented 
himself with the mere reproof of his 
brother, and thereafter thought no 
more of the subject. 

Not so Quattresson : he hated his 
brother as a successful rival ; he 
now hated him doubly, as one who 
had detected him in an act of infa- 
my. La Pratiere, moreover, was 
still immovable. In this state of 
; things he turned his whole mind to 
j revenge. This purpose was still fnr- 
j ther confirmed by the union of La 
1 Pratiere with his brother, de Pen- 
nelle having at length given his con- 
I sent. 

As soon as he had resolved on the 
| crime, he resolved on the means. 
j One of!i is most dissolute companions 
was a young apothecary who attend- 
ed his family. This young man 
was as poor as he was profligate. 
Quattresson proposed to him to poi- 
son his brother, offering him a large 
reward. The villanous apothecary, 
after some reluctance, agreed to (he 
proposal. 

An opportunity was not long want- 
ing to persons so determined on 
crimes. Valfontaine, about six 
weeks after his marriage, finding 
his body in an extreme heat, and 
his pulse in violent motion, sent for 
hisapothtcary, who having opened a 
vein in the morning, administered to 
him at night a composing draught, 
in which was infused the deadly 
poison: Valfontaine sunk under its 
operation before morning. His wife 
and father were sorrowful in the ex- 
treme for the loss of their son and 



Oft WONDCRS I\ T HEAL LIKE. 



1S5 



husband; Quattresson likewise as- 
sumed a niela/icholy countenance, 

and (o all hut the all-seeing eyes oi 
God, seemed to lament the loss of 
his brother. 

Three months were scarcely pars- 
ed over after tbifi atrocious murder, 
before Quattresson renewed liis suit 
to La Pratiere, his widowed sister- 
in-law. She had already some sus- 
picion that Valibntai.io bad (lied by 
the hands of his brother, and these 
proceedings confirmed her in that 
notion. Silently praying to the Al- 
mighty God to bring about justice 
in his own due time, she contented 
herself with a. sharp Rebuke, and 
the most absolute and decided refu- 
sal to listen to his conversation. 
Quattresson still continuing his of- 
fensive addresses, La Pratiere at 
length withdrew from the house of 
her father-in-law, and sought refuge 
in that of her fa titer. Her beauty 
and fortune soon procured her other 
admirers ; and after a year's mourn- 
ing, she gave her hapd to an honour- 
able and virtuous gentleman of thp 
name of Pont Chausey. Quattres- 
son now vowed that his revenge 
should equal his former love ; he 
accordingly avoided the sight of her 
as of a noxious animal, and to ex- 
tinguish the memory of his passion, 
gave himself up to all kinds of pro- 
iligacy. 

Quattresson hearing that a poor 
peasant, of the parish of St. Andrew, 
about three miles from Valines, had 
a beautiful daughter, resolved to see 
her, and to make her the object of 
seduction. He contrived to call at 
her father's cottage in one of his 
hunting excursions. He saw Ma- 
rietta, — saw that her beauty exceed- 
ed her reputation, and he resolved 
instantly to make her his prey. Ma- 



rietta was only sixteen years of 
and vanity and her mean condition 
very powerfully seconded the ad- 
vances of Quattresson. 

To make short this part of our 
narratfve, Quattresson succeeded 
with the young and thoughtless Ma- 
rietta to the full extent of his crimi- 
nal desires; but as the father |nd 
mother of Marietta, though poor, 
were honest, it became necessary to 
remove her from their humble roof. 
Quattresson again succeeded in per- 
suading her to elope, arid concealed 
her in the cottage of one of his fa- 
ther's vassals, about tc: or twelve 
miles from Vannes. 

Quattresson, having now satisfied 
one brutal passion, returned to ano- 
ther. II is revenge against La Pratiere 
arose in double violence. He again 
sent for his former instrument, the 
ruffian apothecary « who had assist- 
ed him to poison his brother. The 
villain agreed to the proposal as soon 
as it was made. They now waited 
only for the opportunity. The jus- 
tice of Providence brought it about 
sooner than they had any reason to 
expect. La Pratiere becoming in- 
disposed, Moncalier was called in 
to administer to her. 

II, > advised that some composing 
draught should bCvgiven to her, and 
left her chamber with the purpose 
of making up this draught, and in- 
fusing into it a deadly but gradual 
poison, 'i 'he vengeance of God, 
however, overtook him before the. 
accomplishment of his murderous 
intention. He had just left the cham- 
ber-door, and was in the act of bow- 
ing to the husband, who attended 
him on the staircase, when rtsji.^ 
up too suddenly, and the bannisters 
being low and dark, he fed back- 
wards over them. The stairs were 
T 2 



136 



HISTORIC ROMANCES, 



like those in old houses, very deep, 
and in the shape of a well down- 
wards; he accordingly fell to the 
bottom, and without having time to 
recommend his soul to his Maker, 
and to ask, even momentarily, a par- 
don of Heaven, broke his neck and 
expired — an awful example of the 
divine vengeance, and of the death 
of the wicked. 

One would have thought thai such 
a calamitous accident would have 
awakened the terror of Quattresson. 
Not at all ; it had no such effect. 
On the contrary, he rejoiced in it, 
as an incident which put him into 
additional security, by removing 
the witness and accomplice of his 
former crimes. Poor deluded wretch! 
as if the all - seeing eye of God 
was not upon him, and as if Heaven 
wanted other means to accomplish its 
justice. His cup was not yft full; 
thebolt, however, was heating, and 
lie soon received it on his head. 

Quattresson now returned to his 
debaucheries, and very soon became 
satiated with the charms of Mariet- 
ta. He now began to find her a 
burden. JSome whispers,- moreover, 
of his intrigue had reached his fa- 
ther's ear, and he began to fear be- 
ing disinherited. Marietta becom- 
ing pregnant by him, augmented 
his terrors. Under these circum- 
stances he resolved to get rid of her, 
and no more expeditious way sug- 
gested itself to this wicked man, 
than murder. It was the shortest 
way, and, as he persuaded himself, 
the safest and the surest. 

Having thus resolved on the pur- 
pose, he removed her from the house 
where he had hitherto concealed 
Iter, under the pretext that he wish- 
ed her to be more comfortable, and 
better provided against the season 



of her delivery. He removed her 
to the house of one Daniels, a mil- 
ler, who bore a character scarcely 
less abandoned than that of Quat- 
tresson himself. This fellow was a 
tenant of his father, and Quattresson 
having before made use of him on 
some licentious purpose, knew that 
he would undertake any thing for 
money. 

Quattresson accordingly, a few 
days afterwards, opened his purpose 
to the miller; promised a reward, 
and implored him to do the business 
quickly and secretly. The miller, 
wicked as had been the former course 
of his life, hesitated, and proposed 
that for the same reward he would 
marry Marietta, and thus take the 
child upon himself. 

Quattresson, however, from some 
remains of jealousy, would not list- 
en to this expedient; he knew, more- 
over, that Marietta would not be- 
come the wife of Daniels, as she be- 
lieved that she was about to become 
that of Quattresson. In a few words, 
the miller's scruples were at length 
overcome, and he undertook to ex- 
ecute the dreadful purpose. 

Daniels, to get rid of his suspense, 
resolved to execute the crime imme- 
diately. Accordingly, the night af- 
ter he had undertaken it, he was 
particularly assiduous in his atten- 
tions to Marietta. Quattresson him- 
self visited her that evening ; hy- 
pocritically kissed her as he parted 
from her, and then took his leave, in 
(he full hope and expectation that 
he should never see her more. The 
fond and lovely girl wept at his de- 
parture. She thought that on such 
a night (being rainy and stormy), 
he might have staid with her. Quat- 
tresson, however, fearless of the 
storms of heaven, rode briskly home, 



OR WONDF.RS IN HEAL LIFE. 



J 37 



where lie mixed in a gay party, as 
it his conscience and his heart bad 
been perfectly at case. 

In the mean time the miller com- 
forted Marietta ; amlgivinghersome 
warm wine, persuaded her to <jo ( () 
herchamber. Hither she according- 
ly went, — alas! never to return. She 
soon wept herself asleep, having 
first, according to her nightly prac- 
tice, prayed God to pardon her sin, 
but without the resolution to aban- 
don it. These are prayers which 
God can never hear. 

Daniels awaited very impatient- 
ly till a late hour in the night; when 
thinking her asleep, he stole up to 
her door. He listened, ami heard 
nothing but her breathing. He went 
into the next room, and getting 
through a window on a ledge, or 
boose-ridge, he gained the window 
of Marietta's chamber. lie softly 
removed a pane of glass, opened the 
window, and entered the room. 
Grasping the neck of the lovely girl 
with one hand, and forcing down 
the bed-clothes with the other, the 
hellish ruffian partly strangled and 
partly stilled her. The unhappy 
girl had at least the consolation of 
not knowing that Quattresson, her 
beloved Quattresson, was the cause 
of her death. 

When the murderer thought the 
business finished, he mustered ftp 
courage enough to remove the bed- 
clothes, and looked at his victim by 
the light of his dark lantern, lie 
found her dead, and, in spite of his 
wickedness, trembled, and was co- 
vered with a cold sweat : there was no 
time, however, to be lost. lie put 
the body into a sack, ami filling it 
with stones, threw it into his mill- 
dam. 

Quattresson being iu formed of it 



'I next day, gave him his reward; 
! which the miller immediately ex- 
'! pended in flour, and augmented his 
trade. His business (teemed com- 
plete, and both Quattresson and him- 
self, in three or four weeks, forgot 
j their crime and Marietta. Not so, 
: however, the justice of Almighty 
God. Me saw the crime, and had 
I prepared the punishment. 

The guilty i\ra\ had been commit- 
!j ted aboutt\Yo:nouths,whensomcgen- 
: tlemen, crossing the fields near the 
\ mill-dam, one of their dogs plunged 
I into the water after a duck that was 
I swimming there. The miller not 
i being in his mill, thegentlemen en- 
couraged their do<rs. The duck to 
escape them dived, and one of the 
dogs after it. The dog, upon com- 
ing up to the surface, ne^lecleci the 
duck, and swam round the place, 
whence he returned to the surface, 
barking and making much noise. 
The othcrdogssoon joined him. The 
gentlemen threw stones and cnlled 
to the dogs, but to no purpose. They 
now began to think there was some- 
thing extraordinary, and were re- 
solved to see what it was. At this 
instant the miller came up, and see- 
ing how things were, implored the 
gentlemen to call the dogs from hunt- 
ing his ducks. They told him that 
his ducks should be paid for, but 
! that the dogs were not hunting his 
j ducks, but something at the bottom 
| of the pond, and desired him to lit 
' oh" the water, that they might see 
i what it was. The miller trembled 
1 ami changed colour ; but concealing 
his agitation, suggested that such 
an expedient would be his ruin, as 
it was the summer season, and if the 
j water were let off, he would have 
i none to grind with. They ofFercd 
to pay him whatever was reasonable. 



138 ENQUIRY RESPECTING THE KINGDOM OF NATURE, &C. 



The miller, however, replied, that 
nothing could indemnify him, and 
entreated them to desist. The gen- 
tlemen, accordingly, with much dif- 
ficulty, brought off their dogs, and 
by the aid of the miller, forced them 
into the mill. 

The miller had not so well conceal- 
ed his confusion, but that one of the 
gentlemen had perceived it, and be- 
gan to entertain some suspicions, 
though he knew not of what. He 
resolved, however, to be satisfied, 
and hit upon an expedient. He fol- 
lowed the miller through the mill, 
and seemed to take an interest in his 
explanations of its machinery. He 
at length proposed to his compa- 
nions, that as it was some distance 
to the town, and as the day was beau- 
tifuland thescenery delightful, they 
should dine in the mill. The gen- 
tlemen all agreed, and the miller 
was accordingly sent off to procure 
wine, &c. from the town, the gen- 
tlemen promising to take care of his 
house and mill till his return. 
Having thus got rid of the miller, 



j they resolved to execute the purpose 
) which they had all formed. Ac- 
| cordingly, they proceeded to let off 
i the water out of the dam ; the dam 
1 was soon exhausted, and the sick 
; and the body of Marietladiscovered. 
j The gentlemen had just taken it 
{ from the sack, and were examining 
it on the bank, when the miller was 
seen coming blithely along through 
j a meadow. In a few minutes, how- 
ever, he got a sight of them on the 
bank of the mill-dam, and his con- 
science informing him what they 
were about, he betook himself to 
flight. Two of the gentlemen pur- 
sued him, and brought him to the 
mill. 

The remainder of this narrative is 
very brief. The miller was brought 
to trial, and condemned to be hang- 
ed. He accused Quattresson of hav- 
ing bribed him to the act, upon 
which Quattresson was likewise 
tried and condemned. Previous to 
his execution he acknowledged all 
his murders, and implored the for- 
giveness of Heaven. 



ENQUIRY RESPECTING THE KINGDOM OF NATURE IN 

WHICH A WIFE SHOULD BE CLASSED. 

TO THE EDITOR. 

is to be fixed to one spot, and to 
be perfectly silent while alive, 
though some emit melodious and 
dulcet sounds when dead ; still less 
as a fossil, though many owe the 
greater part of their value to the 
quantity of minerals pertaining to 
them ; yet I own, angel as I sup- 
posed her to be before marriage, I 
thought I did my wife no wrong, 
in deeming her to belong to the 
animal kingdom afterwards. 

Once, indeed, I remember hear- 
ing a nymph of the celebrated Lon- 
don fish-mart, abusing another for 



Sir, 

There is a good old saying, 
that a man is never too old to learn ; 
and I find, old as I am, that I had 
something to learn from the corre- 
spondence of your old physician, 
p. 23 of your number for July. 
Hitherto I had imagined, I appre- 
hend with most natural philoso- 
phers, that every thing in nature 
was to be classed in one or other of 
what are called the three kingdoms ; 
and though experience has taught 
me, that a wife cannot be considered 
as a vegetable, the nature of which 



ON CERTAIN MATRIMONIAL PLAGUES CALLED NUllSE*. 



139 



cnllinfr her an animal ; but I own 
I was not disposed to submit to her 
authority. In this it now appears 
1 was wrong ; though, whether the 
loomed doctor were a pupil of her's, 
or she a pupil of the doctor, I am 
not competent to decide, any more 
than I am in what light to consider 
my w ife in future. 

Perhaps, however, after all, I 
have mistaken the sagacious physi- 
cian for want of diving sufficiently 
deep into his meaning ; possibly his I 



expressions were intended to imply, 
that a wife is something completely 
out of nature. If this be really the 
case, I should be very happy to be 
informed, how I can extricate my- 
self from the unnatural state in which 
I have involved myself from want 
of understanding. 
I am, Sir, 

Your very humble 
and obedient servant, 
G. A. Metees. 



ON CERTAIN MATRIMONIAL PLAGUES CALLED NURSES. 

TO THE EDITOR. 
Sir, 



It is said that li there is a 
pleasure in madness which none 
but roadmen know ;" and I may 
add, that there is a pleasure in 
grumbling that none but grumblers 
know. I am not willing to include 
myself: amongst the insane, at least 
the merry madmen; nor am I in- 



I am about to complain of quite so 
often ; for seven lyings-in in seven 
years, have a tendency to make a 
grumbler of any man endued with 
less patience than Job. At the same 
time, perhaps, had I waited one 
day longer you would not have been 
troubled with this, for the nurse 
! will leave us to-morrow. Know 



clined to fancy myself an habitual | then, sir, that my house (at other 
grumbler; although I confess I fee! times the mansion of peace) has 
some satisfaction from the hope that ; been in a state of civil, or rather 
you will print these my complain- J uncivil discord for the last month ; 
ings, and I shall leave your readers and it is only subsiding just now, 
to judge whether I murmur without I because all the parties concerned 
sufficient cause. I; are nearly exhausted. I wish from 

I am a married man, in a respect- 1 my heart there was no such unua- 



able line of business-, which is so 
pleasantly conducted by trusty ser- 
vants, that I can afford to spend 
much of mv time in social, domes- 
tic comforts. My wife is as agrec- 



! tural a thing in nature, as that 
plague, a nurse! — But I will not 
i lose my temper. Just one mmth 
, ago come to-morrow, I dispatched 
i a messenger to IJeddington, for 



able and worthy a woman as any j Mrs. Dormouse, a nurse first re- 
man in his senses could desire to! commended by. ray spouse's mother, 

have, and I am n:»( going to c.im- f \ who holds herself in constant rcadi- 



plain at her expence, poor soul! 1 
only wish it would please the fates 



ness once a year at the same period, 
! knowing that mistress, as she says, 



so to ordain it, that she did not can be depended upon as " true as 
bring upon me a renewal of the evil ii St. Paul's clock/' Mistress she 



140 



ON CERTAIN MATRIMONIAL PLAGUES CALLED NURSES. 



reckons upon as an annuity for some 
years to come. A uurse in a house 
is as hateful as an exciseman — he 
has the keys of all that is useful, 
and so I may say has a nurse. 

When my good soul is in bed, then 
commences the confusion ; up stairs 
and down stairs, nurse wants this 
and nurse wants that. Then there 
is such a contention about who shall 
not answer the bell. As to myself, 
I am passed by all upon the stairs 
with as much ceremony as the cat. 
For the first few days, let me ask 
any question of these flying scouts, 
be it what it may, the only answer 
I can get is, u Mistress is as well 
as can be expected," and away 
they go. After the first day of my 
wife's confinement, if I attempt to 
knock at the chamber-door, the ques- 
tion is from the old nurse, " Who's 
there?" — "It is your master." 
— M O Benjamin, what do you 
■want?" — " I tell you it is not the 
footman, it is your master." — " O, 
master is not here — but stop, Ben- 
jamin, I want some coals ; and hark 
ye, you must go to the kimisters and 
get this proscription made, for the 
baby is ill ; and stop, Benjamin," 
whilst I creep away to stop her 
noise, without the satisfaction of 
knowing from the poor sufferer how 
she fares. 

When it happens that I am ad- 
mitted, all my patience flies away. 
If I venture to ask, " Nurse, do 
you not think the room too dark, 
or is it not too warm ?" — Humph — 
I had better ask the doctor, he or- 
dered it so. — Well, I do ask the 
doctor, he denies it ; then madam 
nurse goes into a violent pet, alarms 
her mistress, and shakes upon her 
heavy knees the poor baby into fits. 
—I have often thought of turning 



nurse myself. If I go into the room 
a dozen times a day, the infant is 
being either dressed or undressed ; 
and thus the poor innocent little 
victim is first placed upon its face, 
and then upon its back ; then a pin 
is stuck here and another is stuck 
there by her clumsy, dawdling fin- 
gers; and sometimes I verily believe 
into the child's side, on purpose to 
drive me out of the room, and its 
poor mother out of her wits. All 
this is done, too, with her knees 
thrust close to a fire fierce enough 
to roast a pig. The dressing done, 
then commences the feeding of the 
little sufferer, who, after being 
nearly roasted, is scalded by hot 
pap. Surely I would ask, is it 
necessary to lay the infant upon its 
back, to have the victuals poured 
down its throat until it is choaked ; 
its innocent arms bandaged tight, 
to prevent its natural struggles un- 
der such persecutions ; and this ac- 
companied by a hus — h — h — h — 
ing noise loud enough to be heard 
all over the house, and a shaking 
worse than that experienced by a 
poor spaniel in the trap of a cock- 
ney sportsman's gig. 

When her mistress is inclined to 
sleep, then is her prating tongue at 
work, recounting a thousand dis- 
mal talcs of winding-sheets, death- 
watches, and melancholy church* 
yards ; and when her mislress is 
awake, then is Mrs. Dormouse 
snoring fast asleep. There is no 
peace for her night or day. Some- 
times I think these restless old spirits 
walk in their sleep, and they are 
ever mumbling to themselves. I 
must tell you I sleep, or rather lie, 
upon the same floor with my wife's 
room. I cannot keep the prying old 
puss out when I am in bed ; for I 



THE CONQUEST OF THE ISLAND OF CELEBES. 



141 



know not how many times she comes 
toddling in her list shoes, heavy as 
an elephant, holds the light at the 
foot of my bed, and begins her soli- 
loquy: — u I wonder if master's 
asleep — O no, master's not asleep 
— O yes, master's asleep sound as 
a church ; well, I dare say he'll he 
glad when he gets into his own bed 
again. — Bless me! what was it I 
wanted ?" — (for she is on her way to 
the room beyond mine) — " O, it 
was the child's cap — yes, it was the 
cap." After fumbling at all the 
drawers, dropping the keys, and 
then the light, I am suddenly roused 
from my doze by this returning, 
mumblilig, fat old night-mare, and 



robbed of my rest. But I have 
just now witnessed a most cheering 
sight. Mistress has been practising 
the last act of a lying-in incantation, 
under the guidance of this old 
Hecate; namely, the going up nine 
of the garret stairs and down again, 
for good luck, before she descends 
to the drawing-room, where I have 
now the happiness of seeing her 
placed with her dear baby on an 
easy sopha by her own fire-side, 
from which I send you this, and 
am, Sir, 

Your most obedient servant, 
and constant reader, 

Ezekiel Day. 



THE CONQUEST OF Til 
By Augustus 

Few indeed have been the con- 
quests of which any honest man 
could boast, as they are almost in- 
variably undertaken at the sugges- 
tion of ambition, the love of power, 
or the thirst of wealth. Of these 
three furies, by whose scourges con- 
querors are urged forward, the last 
is the most odious and the most cru- 
el : hence the conquest of the Island 
of Celebes, begun by the Dutch in 
1560, is one of the most disgraceful 
in history. If I relate the circum- 
stances attending it, I shall prove 
at the same time, that our days have 
not witnessed the greatest atrocities. 

Celebes, as every reader knows, 
is a large island situated to the 
north-west of the Moluccas. The 
excessive heat of the climate would 
perhaps render it uninhabitable, 
were it. not moderated by frequent 
storms and torrents of rain. The 
King of Macassar was the most pow- 

No. XLV. Vol. VII J. 



E ISLAND OF CELEBES. 

VON KoTZEBLE. 

erful of the sovereigns of Celebes. 
On each of his provinces nature had 
bountifully conferred some ricli or 
useful gift. The mountains pro- 
duce gold, copper, and tin ; (he fo- 
rests yield ebony, sandal, and other 
valuable species of woods; (he 
rivers abound with fish, and the 
vallies are perfumed with orange 
trees. Every branch is laden with 
the most delicious fruit. The finest 
cotton grows without culture, and 
the silkworm produces in the open 
air her most delicate web. The 
groves are enlivened by innumera- 
ble birds, with variegated plumage 
and enchanting notes ; and nowhere 
do the fields afford sue!) luxuriant 
pasturage. Here feed large herds 
of buffaloes, horses, and stags, free 
from the alarms of tigers, lions, and 
elephants, for these formidable ani- 
mals are unknown in Celebes. The 
apes alone are troublesome, from 
U 



142 



THE CONQUEST OF THE ISLAND OF CELEBES. 



Ibeir numbers, and would be still 
more so, were it not for the inces- 
sant persecution of a large species 
of serpent. 

Secure harbours invite ships to the 
island, whose capital is called Man- 
cassara. The inhabitants were for- 
merly pagans, but the Portuguese 
Christians came hither from the 
Moluccas, and the Mahometans from 
Sumatra ; the former preached the 
Gospel, the latter the Koran. The 
King of Macassar was at a loss 
which of these doctrines to adopt. 
He consulted the wisest of his sub- 
jects, and these, in their simplicity, 
advised him to embrace that faith 
whose ministers should first reach 
him, since God could not possibly 
permit error to arrive before truth. 
These poor people did not know, that 
error universally outstrips truth, 
and sometimes leaves it at a great 
distance behind. The Mahometans 
actually arrived first, and thus the 
Koran gained the victory over the 
Bible. The Portuguese were, how- 
ever, allowed to trade throughout 
the whole country, and even to erect 
a fort. These proceedings were not 
witnessed without envy by the 
Dutch. 

In 1560 the Dutch company sent 
ambassadors from Batavia to Sam- 
banco, King of Macassar, request- 
ing permission to trade in his domi- 
nions. It was granted with the ut- 
most cheerfulness, and the Dutch 
availed themselves of it to their great 
advantage. But these greedy trad- 
ers soon remarked, that their pro- 
fits would be just double were it not 
for the Portuguese. The ruin of 
these rivals was immediately de- 
creed : but to effect it was not an 
easy task. The Portuguese had 
obtained firm footing in the island ; 



they were beloved by the people, 
and highly esteemed by the king. 
Their enemies were sensible that 
they would not have to contend with 
them alone, but with the whole 
country in which they had been so 
hospitably received. For this pur- 
pose troops would be required. — 
How and where were these to be 
landed ? By nothing but the black- 
est treachery could troops be intro- 
duced into the island, whose pre- 
sence should at first excite no ap- 
prehensions in the natives. They 
had recourse to an expedient, which 
modern times have improved upon. 
In each of the ships which an- 
nually visited Macassar, were em- 
barked a number of soldiers in dis- 
guise, who, under the accustomed 
pretext of trade, dispersed them- 
selves in the provinces, especially 
in one that had recently been 
conquered, where they hoped the 
more easily to excite disturbances. 
Among these interlopers there were 
not more than three or four who 
were in the secret, and who were 
bound by the most tremendous 
oaths. It was resolved not to throw 
off the mask till the number of 
soldiers should be sufficient for the 
execution of the project : till then 
to lull the king and his grandees 
into security by presents and smooth 
words; and also to behave with 
caution 10 the Portuguese and Je- 
suits, so as not to excite in them 
any suspicion. Thus robbers dis- 
guise themselves as travellers, and 
apply for a night's lodging in the 
house which they design to plunder, 
are hospitably received, and dis- 
patch the owner. This is not the 
only occasion on which avarice has 
employed so disgraceful a strata- 
gem; but devoutly were it to be 



THE CONQUEST OF THE ISLAND OF CELEBES. 



J 43 



wished, that it may be the last on 
which it shall be successfully em- 
ployed. 

For some years the Dutch com- 
pany was assembling troops in Ce- 
lebes in (he manner already describ- 
ed, and was not only in silence stir- 
ring up one province to rebellion, 
but striving in vain to sow the seeds 
of discoid in the royal family itself. 
When they thought themselves 
strong enough, they considered it 
to be no longer worth their while to 
dissemble. An army was quickly 
collected, advanced upon the ca- 
pital, and had already passed a 
stream which separated them from 
the insurgent province, before the 
king had any suspicion of so base 
and treacherous a design. No 
sooner, however, was he aware of 
their intention than he showed him- 
self worthy of his throne: he as- 
sembled his faithful subjects, the 
nation took up arms, and the rob- 
bers were driven beyond the iron- 
tier stream. Here they posted 
themselves in the hope of speedy 
reinforcements from Batavia. The 
king attempted in vain to drive 
them from this strong position ; 
but harassed them by incessant at- 
tacks, and daily diminished their 
numbers. 

In this desperate situation they 
had recourse to a satanic expedient, 
for the thirst of conquest despises 
no expedient whatever. They had 
remarked that the enemy came down 
in the night to the river for water. 
They immediately sent out people 
who were born and bred in the moun- 
tains, and who were acquainted 
with the poisonous herbs which there 
grew in abundance. In this intense- 
ly hot climate there arc some of so 
poisonous a nature, that you cannot 
inhale their odour without endan- 



gering life. Of these a sufficient 
quantity was collected to impregnate 
the current. It was necessary, in- 
deed, to calculate the moment with 
accuracy. The Dutch took notice 
at what hour the royal troops were 
accustomed to drink, and for several 
miles above, threw the poisonous 
plants into the river, carefully ob- 
serving the velocity of the stream ; 
and after a few experiments, at 
length succeeded so far, that the 
waters, pregnant with death, passed 
the royal camp just at the moment 
when the natives repaired to it to 
quench their thirst. 

The infernal stratagem succeeded. 
Many died on the spot, while others 
crawled to their tents, and there 
expired. Dismay seized the whole 
camp. This horrid spectacle was 
repeated several days, before the 
real cause was suspected. The di- 
minished army now fled from the 
fatal stream ; the Dutch immediate- 
ly crossed it, and pursued their 
enemies to the walls of the capital, 
which they surrounded, and cut oft* 
all supplies, while two of their ships 
blockaded the harbour. All the 
rice-fields were set on fire, all the 
neighbouring villages were plun- 
dered, and those who escaped the 
sword, were obliged to betakethem- 
selves to the mountains. 

The king had a valiant brother, 
named Daen Ma Alle, who often 
made bold sallies. The Dutch al- 
ways retreated, hoping to reduce by 
hunger what they could not conquer 
by main force. Provisionssoongrew 
scarce in the besieged town ; rice 
was sold for its weight in gold ; and 
for several months the wretched in- 
habitants supported their lives on 
leather boiled in water. 

The king anxiously awaited the 
arrival of the Portuguese ships, 



144 



THE CONQUEST OF THE ISLAND OF CELEBES. 



•which used annually to arrive about 
this period in bis harbours. At length 
they appeared, but at the same time 
more than thirty vessels under 
Dutch colours, which surrounded 
the few Portuguese ships, and cut 
them off in sight of the town. Two 
of the Dutchmen landed fresh plun- 
derers, who immediately joined the 
poisoners. Five others attacked the 
Portuguese fort, and in one day 
battered it down. The greatest part 
of the garrison, together with the 
brave commandant, were buried in 
the ruins. All the rest resolved to 
die with arms in their hands. The 
governor's widow, a high-spirited 
■woman (who puts to shame many a 
man of modern times), determined 
not to survive her husband : she 
ordered the guns to be charged 
with ingots of gold, precious stones, 
and all the other valuables that 
could be collected ; then seized the 
match herself, and discharged them 
into the sea, to disappoint the rapa- 
city of the Dutch. She then flew 
to the most dangerous situations, 
and bravely fighting, found the 
death which she sought. 

Of the Portuguese squadron, com- 
posed of seven ships, three were 
burned, two sunk, and only two 
taken. The commanders of all the 
seven were killed ; their glory was 
buried with them in the waves, but 
the disgrace remained with the con- 
querors, who now attacked the ca- 
pital by land and sea. To their 
astonishment they still met with a 
desperate resistance ; the king and 
his brother performed prodigies of 
valour; and it was not till great 
part of the walls, together with the 
royal palace, had been blown into 
the air by a mine, that the unfortu- 
nate prince sued for pence. He was 
obliged to submit to all the condi- 



tions which the conquerors thought 
fit to impose. The fort and the 
harbour, with a district of several 
miles, were ceded to the Dutch ; 
the Jesuits were expelled, their 
houses and churches destroyed, 
and their effects confiscated, to in- 
demnify the Dutch (as they pre- 
tended) for the expences of an em- 
bassy to China, which had miscar- 
ried through the intrigues of that 
fraternity. The Portuguese were 
deprived of all the offices and dig- 
nities which the king had conferred 
on them ; their warehouses were 
shut up, and their fortifications 
destroyed. Such of them as chose 
to remain in the country, were 
obliged to renounce trade, and to 
live in exile in a distant village. 
The king was forced to send an 
embassy with valuable presents to 
Batavin, to obtain a ratification of 
the trealy. At this high price the 
Dutch promised to give him no far- 
ther molestation, and even to pro- 
tect him in case of necessity. The 
king reluctantly subscribed this dis- 
graceful treaty ; but the brave Daen 



Ma Alle refused his assent, and 
chusing rather to quit his subju- 
gated country, fled to Syria, where 
he ended his days in poverty, but in. 
freedom. 

Thus did the Dutch obtain pos- 
session of the Island of Celebes. It 
is unfortunately the same with the 
conquests of nations, as with the 
riches of individuals : be the source 
whence either flowed ever so im- 
pure ; be the means by which they 
were gained ever so disgraceful, all 
is forgotten ; time sanctions every 
injustice ; and the acclamations of 
flatterers stifle the voice of con- 
science, should it ever be raised 
within the guilty bosom. 



145 



THE MODERN SPECTATOR. 

No. XV III. 

The sportive Muse is my physician, 

To cure the folly ami the madness 
Of pride, of envy and ambition, 

Of spleen and melancholy sadness: 
Whene'er I strike the jocw d lyre, 

That mst .nt, driven from their seat, 
The daemons of the mind relire, 

And go and persecute the great. 



Works of imagination arc more 
generally admired, because there 
are few who have not experienced 
some passion. Most persons are 
better pleased with the beauty of a 
description than (lie depth of an 
idea, because they have felt more 
than they have seen, and seen more 
than they have reflected. Hence 
it may be concluded, that the paint- 
ings of the passions must be more 
generally agreeable than those of 
natural objects; and a poetical de- 
scription of the same objects must 
find more admirers than a philoso- 
phical investigation of them. 

In alluding to the pleasures of 
poetry, or the happiness which may 
arise from an alliance with the 
Muses, I do not confine my notion 
to the writing of verses, but the 
combined powers of invention, fan- 
cy, and imagination, that form what 
I shall call the poetical principle j 
and which, by giving a certain di- 
rection, as well as colour, to our 
thoughts, confers on them a certain 
poetic character, and so arranges 
and decorates our ideas, as to be a 
continual source of pleasure, tho 1 
they are never clothed in verse, or 
embodied in any form. This spi- 
rit, or intellectual muse, if only 
made the companion or inmate, and 
not the mistress, of our mind, is one 
of the most valuable qualities, ac- 
quisitions, or gifts, which the mind 



can possess. Tt fends to heighten our 
joys by its enlivening, elevating fa- 
culties, and to lessen our sorrows 
hy its amusive and heart-soothing 
power, ft adds to the beauty of 
every object, by quickening the dis- 
cernment of what is beauty ; and by 
clothing philosophy in the garb of 
taste and fancy, it endears the pur- 
suits of learning and of science, 
by strewing flowers in the paths 
which lead to their temple. 

It does not occur to me, that Fe- 
nclon ever wrote verses ; but no 
qualified reader of his Tehmachus 
will be insensible to his possession, 
in a very high degree, of the poe- 
tical faculty. The invention which 
gave birth to that immortal work, 
the language in which it is clothed, 
the images by which its sentiments 
are enriched and illustrated, as well 
as the episodes which enlarge its 
variety, combine to justify its being 
styled an epic poem in prose. 

The Temple de Gnide of Mon- 
tesquieu has all the essentials of po- 
etry, but the measure ; and, such 
was the vigour of his imagination, 
that even in his profound treatise of 
the Spirit of J^axcs, thoughts may 
be frequently discovered which have 
all the colour and expression of 
poetry. Thus it is not the actual 
composition of poems which I con- 
sider as a source of genuine, intel- 
lectual pleasure ; but the aggregate 



146 



THG MODERN SPECTATOR. 



sentiment, however applied, from 
which poetry must spring-, and with- 
out which no man can be a poet. 

The various objects of which the 
visible world is composed, were 
formed by nature to delight our 
senses; and as it is this alone that 
makes them desirable to an uncor- 
rupted taste, a man may be said na- 
turally to possess them, when he 
possesses those enjoyments which 
they are fitted by nature to yield. 
Hence it is usual with me, by a very 
pleasing, and as, I trust, innocent 
exertion of the imagination, to con- 
sider myself as having a natural 
property in every object that admi- 
nisters pleasure to me. 

When I am in the country, all 
the fine places near my residence, 
and to which I have access, I re- 
gard, or at least enjoy, as my own. 
I plant wastes, enlarge rivers, and 
make lakes, as well as decorate their 
banks, by the power of my fancy. 
If I have not the faith which can 
remove mountains, I have an ima- 
gination which effectually performs 
that task, to answer my own pur- 
pose, and improve the scene to my 
own mind. When I ride round the 
extensive park of a great and opu- 
lent neighbour, or stray through his 
beautiful groves and decorated gar- 
dens, I consider them as my own 
temporary property. The fine sce- 
nery of the one, and the music and 
fragrance of the others, are mine 
while I enjoy them ; and my senses 
receive all the gratification which 
they are capable of bestowing. On 
these principles I am possessed of 
some of the finest seats in England, 
which belong toseveralofmy neigh- 
bours, who visit them but for a 
small part of the year, and leave 
their real enjoyment to me j while 



the pursuits of ambition, of inter- 
est, or what they call pleasure, con- 
fine them to the circles of the me- 
tropolis. Nor is this all; when I 
become an inmate of any of these 
families in my neighbourly visits to 
them, I consider the lord of the 
mansion, or the master of the house, 
as my steward, who, during my 
abode with him, eases me of the 
care of providing for myself every 
convenience and pleasure which is 
afforded me. 

As I sometimes, though but rare- 
ly, pass a few weeks in London, I 
practise there, also, my leading 
maxim, founded on the principle 
of practical poetry — that he is the 
true possessor of a thing who en- 
joys it, and not the person who 
owns it without enjoying it. Thus 
I assume to myself a property in all 
the fine carriages which pass me in 
the streets : whatever may be their 
taste and figure, the skill of their 
drivers, the beauty of their horses, 
or the figure of those who sit with- 
in, they are my amusements while 
they pass by me, and for no longer 
a period do I wish to possess them. 
The splendour of a drawing-room 
at St. James's, and the elegance of 
a full night at the Opera, are in the 
possession of such a spectator as 
myself; and I consider the deco- 
rated and brilliant figures in these 
assemblages of pride, fashion, and 
beauty, as so many finely feathered 
birds in a menagerie, or flowers in 
a garden, for the gratification of my 
eye, and the contemplation of my 
mind. A gallery of pictures, or a 
cabinet of curiosities, to which I 
have free access, I consider as my 
own. In short, all that I desire is 
the use and view of things, let who 
will have the keeping of them. By 



THE MODERN SPECTATOR 



147 



this maxim I enjoy the wealth of 
the wealthy, the splendour of the 
splendid, and the fashion of the fa- 
shionable; with this difference, that 
I am not subject to their cares, nor 
an object of that envy which so 
often accompanies their exterior 
prosperity and enjoyments. 

But wherever 1 may be, number- 
less inoffensive and natural gratifi- 
cations occur to me, from this 
poetical principle, from the muse 
within me. It is this that gives me, 
or at least I fancy that 1 possess, a 
portion of Lavater's faculty, by 
which I can perceive the index of a 
man's mind in his features. Hence 
it is that I add to my amusements 
by translating countenances ; and 
as I encourage no disposition in me, 
but such as is of a benevolent na- 
ture, I never employ this sagacity 
but on subjects, the first glance on 
■whom does not create the expecta- 
tion that my scrutinizing enquiry 
will not discover some good, great, 
or amiable qualities. Where the 
first impression is favourable, I in- 
stantly pass on in search of some- 
thing which may gratify a better 
feeling, than must be awakened by 
human infirmity. But this poetical 
spirit can never want enjoyment 
while the eye has nature before it. 
An azure sky, the breaking day, 
and a setting sun, never deceive. 
The pale moon and the firmament 
studded with stars, as they are re- 
gular in their variety, may be said 
to be unvarying. In the contem- 
plation of such objects, as a poe- 
tical mind contemplates them, those 
delightful effusions of thought are 
awakened, that high wrought, dig- 
nifying, improving sentiment per- 
vades the mind, that sense of in- 
dependent existence is produced, 



which the mere pride and power of 
life can never know. The sitting 
upon a stile, and looking over the 
field of yellow corn, bending and 
rising in the breeze, with a poetic 
eye, will afford a satisfaction which 
he who reaps the harvest, perhaps, 
never knew. Without such a fa- 
culty as I have been describing, the 
highest state of life, to say no worse, 
will be insipid, and in the posses- 
sion of it the most adverse condi- 
tion may command the enlivening 
beams of comfort. 

The powers of imagination, like 
every other faculty of ihe mind, de- 
pend for their good or ill effects on 
the nature of their direction ; and I 
have described them in myself, as 
I trust they have been, and ever 
will be, under the influence and 
regulation of reason. Addressed 
to proper objects, and called into 
action on fit occasions, they will 
not fail, as I have already observed, 
to heighten the pleasures and lessen 
the evils of our existence. 

A poetical correspondent has fa- 
voured me with a fable so suited to 
my subject, that I shall make no 
apology to my readers for conclud- 
ing this lucubration with it. 



THE 

POWER OF IMAGINATION; 

OR, 

'Die Dove and the Looking - Glass. 
A FABLE. 
I never will invoke the Muse 
To utter scandal or abuse; 
But some good moral to impart, 
To soften and improve the heart: 
Or when winds blow and tempests lower. 
To pass away the dreary hour, 
Each sullen fancy to destroy, 
Awake the spirits into joy: 
Fancy, the source of many a woe, 
And many a pleasure here below; 



148 



ON COMMERCE. 



'Tis Fancy gives, we often find, 
Delusive sorrows to the mind ; 
Unreal pleasures often flow 
From Fancy, too, as well as woe. 
Since then in life's uncertain hour 
Fancy exerts such ample power, 
Let us the busy phantom bless, 
And guide it to our happiness* :- 
— How to attain the curious skill 
Of binding Fancy to the will, 
I mean, as well as I am able. 
To teach, like JEsop, in a fable. 

Two Turtle-Doves, within a cage, 
Liv'd free from envy, hate, or rage; 
No foreign or domestic strife, 
Disturb'd their inoffensive life. 
Become the tender Delia's charge, 
They happier liv'd, than if at large 
They had been left, within the groves, 
To take their flight and coo their loves. 
No care they had, — no sorrow knew, 
And fonder of each other grew. 

But fate, whose unrelenting sway 
Creatures of all kinds must obey, 
Sent forth his mandate to destroy 
This fabric of connubial joy. 
The envious, fatal arrow sped ; 
The faithful lover hangs his head, 
Falls from his perch, and flutt'ring lies, — 
He coos his last — he pants — he dies. 
The widovv'd bird, immers'd in grief, 
Rufuses ey'n the least relief. 
No heartfelt sigh, no plaintive moan, 
No trickling tear, or piteous groan, 
Its inexpressive woes declare; 
But silent, the dejected fair 

* Fancy, as it promotes or lessens human 
comfort, applies itself, iu the former sense, to 
the happy ; in the latter, to the wretched ; 
thereby keeping the balance even, between 
both. 



Broods o'er the sad, disastrous fate* 
Which robb'd her of her darling mate : 
Thus did she pine her hours away, 
To stubborn grief a willing prey. 
Ah! Delia, tender, gentle fair, 
Thy bird eludes thy anxious care ! 
Ah! nought avails thy moisten'd eye. 
Soon will the little favourite die ! 
Another mate might cure the wound. 
But where' s another to be found? 
Fancy alone has power to save 
The hapless mourner from the grave. 

By Delia's magic fingers plac'd, 
With looking-glass the prison's grac'd. 
Around the cage the mirrors shine, 
Each mirror gives a form divine, 
Such as the tender lover bore, 
Ere life and happiness were o'er. 
The sadd'ning Turtle turns her eyes;. 
And sees the welcome figure rise; 
She fancies that her love returns, 
With all her former rapture burns, 
And, as she does the vision bless, 
Renews her life and happiness. 

But what's a fable such as mine. 
Unless I add the moral line ? 
I'll do like other fabling men; 
Nay, for one line I'll give you ten. 

Fancy, to mortals kindly given 
By the indulgent will of Heaven, 
To gild our passage as we stray 
Through life's inhospitable day, 
When pointed to its proper end, 
Is Virtue's sister, Wisdom's friend ; 
Takes rigour from the face of truth j 
Conveys to age the glow of youth ; 
And gives a more alluring dress 
To the fair form of happiness. 

A. B. 



ON COMMERCE. 

No. XXIII. 



Although the inhabitants of 
Madagascar seem but little disposed 
to keep up a regular commerce with 
Europeans, from their former ill 



usage of them ; yet, by proper be- 
haviour, and dealing fairly and just- 
ly with them, a very extensive and 
lucrative trade might be carried on 



FRAGMENTS AND ANECDOTE*. 



149 



liere ; as they are more enlightened 
than the Africans in general, being 
possessed and making use of those 
means which the best instructed na- 
tions have invented, for the facili- 
tating of commerce and the arts in 
general. They understand arith- 
metic in a manner not much differ- 
ing from the Europeans, having de- 
rived it from the same source, viz. 
the Arabians : they calculate from 
the unit to a million, and have pro- 
per terms for expressing the various 
combinations of figures which com- 
pose all sorts of sums. They make 
use also of pens, ink, and paper : 
the first of which are made of reeds, 
called in their language •ooulou ; the 
second is composed of a decoction 
of woods, and named ar.andranto ; 
and the third, which is made of the 
middle bark of a tree, they call avo. 
Their weights are few, and are not 
used, except in weighing gold and 
silver ; the largest of them docs not 
exceed our drachm (they make use 
neither of the ounce nor the pound), 
and this weight they call somai ; 
their smallest weight, being six 
grains, they name nanque: all other 
commodities are disposed of by 
barter ; or rather exchanged by es- 
timation. Their dry measures are, 
the monchu, which contains six 
pounds of clean rice ; the voule, 
which holds half a pound; and the 
zatou of 100 vonles, or 50 pounds 
avoirdupoise. Their long measure, 
and the only one which they have, 
is called refr, and is much the same 
with the European fathom. 



Some of the arts and trades they 
have brought so near to perfection, 
as to be worthy of admiration : th"y 
not only extract their iron from the 
ore by fusion, but afterwards manu- 
facture if skilfully into hatchets, 
hammers, anvils, knives, spears, 
pikes, and several other sorts of 
arms, together with all kinds of 
household utensils. Their gold- 
smiths makeear-pendants, and other 
ornamental trinkets. Their potters 
bum and varnish their wares nearly 
as well as in Europe, but in a dif- 
ferent manner and with different 
materials. Their turners turn all 
sorts of wood, both hard and soft, 
into various articles. They also 
make canoes, eiilier forgoing to sea, 
or to be used upon rivers. Their 
carpenters and joiners worked by 
rule and line before the Europeans 
came amongst them ; and since they 
have become acquainted with and 
use our tools, their works nre not 
much inferior to those of Euro;).". 
Their rope-makers fabricate cord- 
age, of all lengths and sizes, from 
the bark of trees, w hich is almost 
equal to hemp. Their weaving is 
performed by the women Only, the 
men thinking it beneath them : the. 
clothes and stuffs they produce 
from cotton, silk, and some from 
the filaments of the bark of particu- 
lar trees and several sorts of plants, 
arc, in fabric, design, and colour, 
very little, if at all inferior, to some 
of the works of European weavers 
and dyers. 

Merc at on. & Co. 



FRAGMENTS AND ANECDOTES. 

the empress cATiiAiuNE. ' less choakcd with sand by its own 
It is well known thatthe channel annualinundilio.vs ; and in therein 
oftheDuna, near Riga, is more or of the em pre- s Catharine, appre- 
Xo. XLV. Vol. VIII. X 



150 



FRAGMENTS AND ANECDOTES. 



hensions had long been entertainer' 
that the river would be rendered 
unnavigable by this alluvial deposit 
Several expert men had already been 
charged by the empress to obviate 
the danger if possible ; and at length 
she sent the brave General Weis- 
inann, whom she loved and esteemed. 
He expended large sums, but ac- 
complished nothing. After his death, 
General Bawr was commissioned by 
the empress to enquire intothe cause 
of this failure, and to present his 
report on the subject to her in per- 
son. In this report he expressed, 
without reserve, his disapprobation 
of the plans of his predecessor, and 
delivered it to Catharine herself in 
her cabinet. The empress was by 
no means fickle in her friendships ; 
whoever once gained her esteei i, 
was sure of retaining a place in her 
affections. When, therefore, she 
found that Bawr censured a man 
whose memory was dear to her, she 
angrily threw the report on the table, 
saying, " It is not true." The ge- 
neral, with due respect, began to 
vindicate himself; but the empress, 
with a stern look, repeated, " It is 
not true;" and Bawr was silent. 
Catharine, who likewise kept si- 
lence, walked to and fro in her 
cabinet, and as she brushed by the 
table on which the report lay, threw 
down the latter. Bawr, not sure 
whether this was done accidentally 
or on purpose', immediately picked 
it up, and again laid it on the table. 
The empress threw it a second time 
on the floor, and the general now 
suffered it to lie there. It was 
not two minutes before Catharine's 
indignation, which arose from a 
gpnrrous source, was over ; she 
suddenly turned lound, and, with 
an affability peculiar to herself, 



" Pardon me, gfener'aV "aid she, 
" I was a woman." Q iwr, with 
profound emotion, fell at her feet ; 
she gave him her hand to kiss, a id 
then made a sign to him to reach 
the report, which she calmly went 
through wilh him. 

REMARKABLE CUSTOM. 

The young Princess llenee d« 
Bourbon was married in the begin- 
ning of the 16th century to the 
Duke of Lorraine. Before her pub- 
lic entry into Nancy, the inhabit- 
ants of the village of Laxou, through 
which she was obliged to pass, pre- 
pared a rural festival in her honour, 
which pleased her so much, that 
she procured the release of these 
peasants from an extraordinary kind 
of service. Close to the palace there 
was an extensive morass, which 
these poor people were obliged to 
beat all night long, after the mar- 
riage of a prince, that the frogs 
might not croak. 

The inhabitants of the village of 
Montureux were obliged to do the 
same for their abbot, when he was 
going to sleep. — They sung at the 
same time : — 

P&, p& renotte fpaix gnnouille) pi, 
Vecy Mr. l'Abbe que Dieu ga (garde.) 

IMPERIAL CONSCIENCE. 

Anthony de Cryna one day ad- 
vised Charles V. to rid himself, by 
degrees, of several Italian princes, 
and to seize their dominions. u But 
conscience ?" replied Charles — 
" Poll ! poll ! conscience !" rejoined 
Cryna, " if your majesty has a 
conscience, you ought not to be 
emperor." 

THE ABBE GRANCEY. 

The Abbe Grancey ought to have 
been a soldier. He accompanied 
the army to the held, and risked 
his life equally with the b; a vest 









FRAGMENTS AND ANECDOTES. 



151 



grenadier, merely ihnt lie might 
oh joy Lhe pious pleasure of absolving 
the dying on the field of battle. He 
at last fell himself in the battle of 
Turin. A wag observe I on this oc- 
casi m, that the Abbe Grancey had 
died of j m, because he was killed 
by a cannon- 1) II. 

THE WALDBNS£8 \ \l) THE F1BLO- 
M1CB. 

During lhe reign of Francis I. of 
France, the inhabitant- of the vil- 
lages of Cabrieres and Merindole, 

in Provence, declared in favour of 
the doctrine of the Waldenses, 
which the kins: was extremely anx- 
ious to prevent from penetrating 
into his dominions. He was, there- 
fore, highly exasperated against 
these new converts, and ordered 
Chasseneux, president of the par- 
liament of Provence, to proceed 
against them with the utmost rigour. 
The president, an upright, tolerant 
man, reluctantly obeyed. Orders 
wrcre issued tor the apprehension of 
the heads of the sect ; but both 
congregations loudly declared, that 
they were all devoted with equal 
zeal to their faith. It was conse- 
quently necessary to institute pro- 
ceedings against them all; and 
they all unanimously acknowledged 
themselves guilty, and obstinately 
persisted in their error, as it was 
termed. As the king had expressly 
commanded that the same punish- 
ment should be inflicted on them as 
on other heretics, Chasseneux found 
himself obliged to pass the follow- 
ing severe sentence upon them: — 
That the heads of the congregations 
should be burned alive, the others 
expelled the kingdom, their effects 
confiscated, and their houses razed 
to the ground, unless, within a 
stated period, they should renounce 



theirerrors. No sooner had the phi- 
lanthropic magistrate pronounced 
"lis rigid doom, than he himself, 
more dejected than any of those 

| who were involved in it, took a soli- 
tary walk to consider how he might 
delay the execution of the sentence. 
lie was met by an old friend, a 
Burgundian nobleman, with whom 
he had contracted an intimacy 
whilst he was king's advocate at 
Autun. The honest Burgundian 
being informed of the cause of his 
obvious uneasiness, replied, with a 

j smile, u Have you then already 
forgotten a circumstance that hap- 
pened at Autun ? The mice plun- 
dered the fields; the enraged pea- 
sants — good Catholics enough to be 
sure— applied to the bishop, re- 
questing that he would excommu- 
nicate the depredators. The bishop 
was somewhat perplexed ; he wished 
not to exasperate the people, and at 
the same time not to expose the in- 
efficacy of his anathemas. On this 
occasion you yourself advised him 
to appeal to the canon law, which 
enjoined him not to condemn any 
one unheard ; it was, therefore, but 
right that he should first summon 
the mice before his tribunal — and 
then, should they obstinately refuse 
to obey the summons, he might 
convict them of contumacy. The 
bishop followed your advice; the 
peasants thought it perfectly rea- 
sonable : the bishop cited the mice 
to appear on a certain day ; mean- 
while came hail and rain ; the ex- 
communication was pronounced at 
the right time, and the whole race 
of mice perished." — Chasseneux 
embraced his friend, and imme- 
diately made known, that the con- 
tumacious congregations had a re- 
spite of above a year allowed them. 
X 2 



152 



FRAGMENTS ASD ANECDOTES. 



Meanwhile he procured pardons 
from the king for such as should 
submit within a certain time after 
the expiration of that period. This 
excellent man would certainly have 
accomplished his purpose by de- 
grees, and the affair would at length 
have sunk into oblivion, had he 
not been poisoned by the furious 
enemies of toleration. His blood- 
thirsty successors enforced the sen- 
tence to its full extent. 

ARCHBISHOP TILEOTSON. 

The celebrated Dr. Tillotson, 
Archbishop of Canterbury, was a 
remarkably absent man. One daj r , 
being in conversation with some 
person, a gnat stung his leg. The 
doctor stooped, and scratched his 
neighbour's leg for some time, with- 
out discovering his mistake. 

On another occasion this divine 
was going, with three friends as 
absent as himself, from London to 
Windsor. In the coach a learned 
argument took place on some phi- 
losophical topic or other. Having 
proceeded about half way, thej' per- 
ceived that the coachman drove very 
slowly. Desmaiseaux, a French- 
man, who was one of the party, 
put his head out of the window, 
and cried, Allons done ! allons 
done! — " Drive on." The coach- 
man supposing that he had said, 
" To London," replied, " If you 
please, gentlemen," and turned the 
carriage. The disputation in the 
coach continued, and the four ab- 
sent literati actually reached the 
turnpike at Hyde-Park Corner, be- 
fore they perceived the driver's 
mistake; and that, instead of going 
to Windsor, where a good dinner 
was waiting for them, they were 
returning to the same spot from 
which they had shortly before set 
out. 



MARSILIUS FICIVtTS. 

Marsilius Ficinus, a celebrated 
scholar of Florence, flourished in 
the fifteenth century. He enjoyed 
the esteem of the Medici, and was 
so warmly attached to the Platonic 
philosophy, that he kept a lamp 
constantly burning in his room be- 
fore Plato's portrait. He had an 
intimate friend, named Michael 
Mcrcati, with whom he very fre- 
quently conversed on the immorta- 
lity of the soul. They solemnly 
promised to pay one another a visit 
after death. One day Mercati was 
sitting in an apartment at his coun- 
try-house, when he suddenly heard 
the sound of a horse advancing, 
and a voice like that of Ficinus 
pronouncing the words, Michael, 
Michael, vera, vera sunt ilia — 
" Michael, Michael, it is very 
true." Mercati looked out and be- 
held Ficinus gallopping by on his 
grey horse. Some days afterwards 
he received intelligence that Ficinus 
had expired at that very hour. 
This story passed at the time for 
fact among all the literati of Italy. 

PHILIP THE BOLD AND JOHN 
WITHOUT FEAR. 

Philip of France, surnamed the 
Bold, was taken prisoner with his 
father, King John, at the battle of 
Poictiers, and carried to London. 
One day the two princes were 
dining: at the same table with our 
Edward III. when Philip gave the 
principal attendant a sound box on 
the ear. " Where did you learn, 
fellow," said he, " to wait on the 
King of England before the King 
of France, when they are together 
at table?" — " Faith, cousin," re- 
plied Edward, not at all angry, 
" you are not called Philip the 
Bold for nothing." 

The prince received this surname 






FRAGMENTS AND ANECDOTES. 



153 



in llie above-mentioned batik', when, 
though only fourteen years of a<rc, 
he fought with extraordinary cou- 
rage, lie certainly had a much 
better right to it than his son to the 
appellation of John without Fear. 
The latter was incessantly tormented 
with concern for his life, and by re- 
morse. A Iter he hail assassinated the 
Duke of Orleans, he caused a tower 
to be erected, containing a room 
without windows, the low doors of 
which he himself opened in the 
morning, and secured every night, 
with a caution which fear and con- 
scious guilt could alone inspire. 
The executioner was one of his 
best friends and courtiers, his name 
was Chapeluche, and he was after- 
wards sentenced to die for various 
crimes. When he came to the 
scaffold, and perceived that the 
person who was to behead him 
seemed very inexpert at the busi- 
ness, lie desired that his arms might 
be loosed, instructed the man how 
to proceed, and tried the sword 
upon his nail, to see whether it was 
sharp enough, just for all the world, 
says the chronicle, as thongh he 
had been going to perform the ope- 
ration on -another. He then com- 
mended his soul to God, and his 
head was struck off. 

JOHN DUKE OF ANJOU. 

When John Duke of Anjou 
marched with an army against Na- 
ples, to make himself master of 
that city, he ordered these Avords 
from the Gospel of St. John to be 
inscribed on his colours : Fuit mis- 
sus citi nomen erat Johannes — 
" There was a man sent from God 
whose name was John." Alphonso 
of Arragon, who defended the city, 
immediately caused the following 
passage from the same Gospel to be 



ceperunt eum — lt lie cai 



inscribed on his: — Vtnit et non re- 



and 



they received him not." 

GRATITUDE OF PRINCES. 

The Greek Emperor Basiling 
caused a man to be executed who 
had saved his life when hunting, 
because he had on this occasion 
drawn his sword in his presence. 
Another sovereign ordered the hands 
of a slave to be cut off, because the 
latter, when he was near drowning 
had dragged him out of the water 
by the hair, and in so doing had 
laid hands on his master's head. 
A nobleman was sentenced to die 
by a Spanish monarch, because, 
when the queen was riding, and her 
horse had run away with her hang- 
ing in the stirrup, he had hastened 
to her assistance and relieved her 
from this most perilous situation, 
but at the same time had seen and 
touched her foot. 

REMARKABLE ANTIPATHIES. 

Henry III. of France could not 
remain alone in a room where a cat 
was. The brave Duke d'Epernon 
fainted at the sight of a rabbit. 
Marshal Albert was taken ill when- 
ever a pig was brought to table. 
Ladislaus, King of Poland, ran 
away at the sight of apples. The 
smell of fish always threw Erasmus 
into a fever. Scaliger trembled all 
over whenever he saw cresses. 
Tyeho Brahe could scarcely sup- 
port himself if he met a hare or a 
fox. Every eclipse of the moon 
threw Lord Chancellor Bacon into 
fainting fits. Boyle was seized with 
convulsions at the noise of water 
running from a cock. La Mot he 
le Vayer could not endure the sound 
of any musical instrument, but re- 
ceived the most exquisite pleasure 
from thunder. 



154 



FRAGMENTS AND ANECDOTE?. 



mademoiselle ratcour. ! on (be musical pronouneiaf ion, can- 



Mademoiselle Raucour, a ce1e T 
brated French actress, -was one day 
taking" the diversion of shooting 
with the Marquis de Bievre, who 
was remarkable for his puns and 
bon-mots. She took aim at a crow, 
which she missed, and at the same 
time g-ot entangled among some 
bn,shes : Vot/s comptiez pre?idre 
Corncille, said the marquis ; mais 
xous avcz pris Racine. 

When this same actress made her 
debut at the Theatre Franchise, she 
had, like all beginners, a great 
number of cabals to struggle with.; 
but nobody was so violent against 
her as Mademoiselle Vestris. The 
public was acquainted with the 
antipathy of the latter. During (he 



not be equivalently translated. 

Ci These three animals," says 
Mezetin, " performed their parts 
so well, that the kin^ took a liking 
tothe middleone." [Scaramouch*'. J 

This was not the first time of his 
enchanting the ears of princes by 
musical imitations of the voices 
of animals. He fled from Naples to 
Florence, where he presented him- 
\ self to the Grand Duke, as a musi- 
cian of the Viceroy of Naples. Be- 
ing desired to give some specimen 
of his art. he first rambled agree- 
ably over the strings of his guitar, 
a few grimaces succeeded, and then 
a slight imitation of the tones of the 
long-eared animal, which -.vcremore 
completely exemplified in certain 



performance a cat suddenly set up stanzas, of which the following is 
the most hideous mewing. " I 
would lay a wager," cried a wag in 
the pit, " that is Yestris' cat." 

SCARAMOtCHE. 

LouisXI V. invited Scaramouche, 
the famous Italian actor, into France* 
and after coming to a proper un- 
derstanding, the droll accepted the 
invitation. He presented himself 
at court in his theatrical costume ; 
but with the addition of the cloak, 
as it was commonly worn at that 
time. He quitted this covering, 
however, in the presence of the 
king, to whom he shewed himself 
as the xirilablc Scaramouche, hold- 
ing in one hand his guitar, and 
accompanied by a dog and a per« 
roquet, each of which bore its part 
in a little concert which he per- 
formed before his majesty. These 



humbly offered as a translation. 

So\G I. — With rariatiens and imitation*. 

The Ass in love o'er Lead and ears, 
Brays moody mailne>s every hour, 
Like one enrapt'd by music's power, 

Bellows his misery, srief, and fears; — 

Hear how his trembling love-notes jar ! — 

Ut re mi fa sol la [braying], 

He no! he ho! he ho ! ha ! 

Bat if his love he chance to meet, 

His brays resounding mark his joy«: — 
Like one who leads with hand and voice 

A nmneiousbaud; — and her to greet 

How sprightly now his love-notes are! 

Ut re nd fa sol la (braying], 

He ho ! he ho! he ho ! ha! 

Haply he finds her at the rack ! — 

Forgets his toils, forgets his rambles; 
He leaps, he skips, he frisks, he gambols, 

Ere the pack-saddle quits his back ; 

He shouts his true love notes : hah ! hah .' 

Ut re mi fa sol li i"bi nyiug], 

He ho! he ho ! he ho! ha — a — ah ! ! ! 

■ 
Whatever merit these verses pos- 



two dillctanti were placed, one at sess, the music composed to express 
the head of his guitar, the other on ,'; their meaning, with the manner of 
a stool. They sung a son<:, the ; executing it, gave them that irre- 
words of which being formed com- U sistible force, which obliged the 



plctely on ajeu Or mots, dependent ; j Grand Duke to hold his sid 



es, un- 



FUAG1ICNTS AND ANECDOTES. 



JjJ 



der the oppression of laughter. 
When this fit was over, he request- 
ed another j if possible, equally <-\- 



himself, " Don't let us be vexed 
for swell a trifle," sakl he, " the 
thing is easy enough.*' He then 



hilarating. Scaramonehe readily drew from bis pocket a little writ- 
obliged him bv .1 second, which the big-case, in which was a small pen. 

duke had scarcely beard, when his •' What is lhal lor?" said the 
rapture was so great, that he ran Parisian ; "here are pens and ink.. 

and embraced (he performer, and " No," said the Lyonesc, u I cap 
begged his acceptance of a hundred write with inyown pens only." He 
pistoles, then breathed on his pen ( 1 his was 

This song was an imitation of the indispensable) and seemed during a 
notes of an animal inure domestic i few moments to endeavour to write 

with it, l)iit it proved to be too dry. 
u Ma foil" said he, after having 
scrawled without making a mark, 
u this will not write — give me 
your's." Then using the pea and 
ink before him, he wrote his name 
at full length, in his usual form. 
Instantly on quilting the house be 
ran and made his affidavit of this 
fact. The cause was brought into 
court: the signature was proved: 
there was no witness of any vio- 
lence used. The judge seemed to 
to think the signature a forgery. 
" Forged !" said the Parisian, '• my 
friend gave it me freely, in open 
day, as we were sitting together 
very sociably in my private room. 
He tried a good while to make use 
of his own pen and ink; but as his 
woidd not mark, he asked me for 
mine, and used them." The Lyo- 
nese being cross-examined as to the 
truth of this story, "acknowledged 
it was true, verbatim; but he point- 
ed out the place where he had, not 
him in a room separated from the without intention, sciawled a few 
house and completely private; and strokes. The judge threw on (his 
they were atone together : suddenly spot a certain powder, which was 
the Parisian presented a pi.stol on handed to him, when immediately 
full cock, with a draught foi t him- certain letters became visible to all 
dred thousand livres, which he in- •'•(» court, who read on this bill, 
sisted that his Lyonese friend should 
sign. The visitor was at iiisi strut 



than the former. 

Sonc; II. — With variations and imitations 

Love, wliui a barbarous shaft was that, 

Shot from thy bow at my Tom Cat! 

1 am so vex'd, 

1 wouhl lii' were UBsek'd: 
Then never should he feel thy am'rous pain, 
I\or be thy loo!, n»r he thy slave again ; 
Nor with his catlj kind seek interview — <); 
Nor ilin the neighbour* with bis piteous 

mieiD — O / 
Hitw--U.' >niew--au--0 ! '. mie:c--uu-au--0 ! ! ! 

Now roams he o'er the roof and o'er the 

gutter : 
What shriek*, what lamentations dolh he 

utter! 

I hear his groans ; 
I koou his mnaui : 
His very heart, his lungs, his liver, 
Burn with fierce anguish from thy quiver; 
Alone lie moans, his dreadful fate to rue — O, 
Or call his belle to In ar his piteous miew — O .' 
Huw—O ! mieW—au—O .' .' mieiu-au-au-0 .' .' .' 

THE BITBB BIT. 

In the year 1776' (or not long 
after) a very rich merchant of 
Lyons being at Paris, called on one 
of his correspondents: he found 



dumb; but gradually recollecting : pistol in hand. " 



ii tia im| roved, immediately tinder 
'he signature, " Forced from me; 



156 



Plate 16.— QUEEN-SQUARE, BLOOMSBURY. 



Queen-Square, situated to the 
eastward of Bloomsbury-Square, is a 
handsome area, surrounded on three 
sides by good houses, having an 
extensive garden in the center, with 
a statue of her Majesty Queen Char- 
lotte, erected at the expence of the 
late General Strode. The north 
side formerly commanded fine views 
of Hampstead and Highgate, now 
shut out by Guildford-street, with 
which this square has no communi- 
cation, though separated from it 
only by open iron railing. 

On the west side stands the 
church of St. George the Martyr. 
The erection of this edifice was 
occasioned by the great increase of 
inhabitants in the parish of St. 
Andrew, Holborn. Several of those 
who resided at the extremity of the 
parish having proposed to erect a 
chapel for religious worship, Sir 
Strej'nsham Master and fourteen 
other gentlemen were appointed 
trustees for the management of the 
business. In 1705 they contracted 
for the building of a chapel and two 
houses for j£3,500, intending to re- 



imburse themselves by the sale of 
pews. The edifice being finished 
the next year, they settled annual 
stipends for the maintenance of a 
chaplain, an afternoon preacher, 
and clerk ; but the commissioners 
for erecting fifty new churches in 
the metropolis purchased the build- 
ing, caused a certain district to be 
appointed for its parish, and had it 
consecrated in 1723 > when it was 
dedicated to St. George, in com- 
pliment to Sir Streynsham Master, 
who had been governor of Fort St. 
George in the East Indies. 

This church is a plain brick 
building without steeple, and des- 
titute of any pretensions to elegance, 
though convenient and well lighted. 
The interior is of the composite 
order, with beautiful enrichments. 
The rectory, like that of St. An- 
drew, is in the gift of the Duke of 
Buccleugh. Among the rectors of 
eminence who have held this living 
may be mentioned Dr. Stukely, 
author of several learned antiqua- 
rian publfcations, and Dr. Lux- 
more, afterwards Bishop of Bristol. 



INTELLIGENCE, LITERARY, SCIENTIFIC, &c. 



R. Ackermann intends publish- 
ing, in the course of a few days, 
a large coloured print of Highgate 
Archzoaj/, now erecting under the 
direction of Mr. Nash, andwhich we 
understand will be one of the finest 
pieces, of scenery in Great Britain. 

The Sudburiad, a volume of 
poems in 8vo. by Hamilton Roche, 
Esq. of the Cottage, Sudbury, is 
in the press, and will shortly 
appear. 



Mr. Paul is engaged upon an en- 
graving in aquatinta, illustrative of 
A Corporate Bore ugh Procession 
advancing to their Moot or Town- 
Hall, to prepare an Address upon 
the Assassination of the late Mr. 
Perceval, from a drawing by Mr. 
Hamilton Roche, of Sudbury. 

A second edition of MissBurney's 
Traits of Nature, and also of her 
Geraldine Fauconberg, will be pub- 
lished in a few days. 



INTELLIGENCE, LITERARY, SCIENTIFIC, &C. 



157 



The Travels of Professor J.ich- 
tcnslein in Southern si J'riea, during 
the years 1808, 4, 5, and 6, trans- 
lated from the German, by Anne 
Plumptre, arc nearly ready for pub- 
lication, and will form one volume 
quarto, accompanied by engravings 
from drawings taken on the spot. 

The novel which has recently 
appeared under the title; of Self- 
indulgence, is the production of a 
lady of high rank, who, before her 
marriage, figured as one of the 
brightest luminaries in the hemi- 
sphere of fashion ; and since her 
widowhood, has, amidst the wild 
scenery of the Highlands, cultivat- 
ed a taste for literature with much 
success. 

The Biographical Peerage of 
the United Kingdom, vol. IV. con- 
taining Ireland, is nearly ready for ! 
publication. 

Sir James Mackintosh, daring 
his residence in Hindoostan, has 
compiled a History of England, 
since the Revolution, intended to 
serve as a continuation of Hume's 
History. It is expected to form 
four quarto volumes ; and report 
says, that the booksellers have en- 
gaged to give him .afoOOO for the 
copy-right. 

The Rev. Win. Beloc has com- 
pleted the sixth volume of his 
Anecdotes of Literature* and it will 
shortly appear. 

The Rev. George Crabbc is pre- 
paringa volume of Tales, to be print- 
ed uniformly with his other works. 

In a few days will be published, 
the Jl iduicei) a poem, in seven 
parts. 

The Rev. Dr. James Brown has 



it is an allegorical representation of 
the miserable governments of this 
world, and their final extinction in 
the reign of the Redeemer. 

The History and Antiquities of 
the County of Lincoln, is about to 
be illustrated by a translation of the 
Chronicle of Fngutpkus, Abbot of 
Oroyland ; with biographical, his- 
torical, and descriptive notes, ac- 
companied by engraved views, por- 
traits, &c. 

Mr. John Malcolm has in the 
press, a work on (he Topography 
of Persia, which will extend to 
three large volumes in quarto. 

The honorary premiums of -£200, 
.€100, and c£b0, offered by govern- 
ment /"or the three best designs for 
an immense Penitentiary Prison, for 
600 transportable convicts, intended 
to be established at Mill-Bank, on 
a system of reformation, long since 
recommended by the late Mr. How- 
ard, have been awarded to Mr. 
Williams, Mr. Busby, and Mr. 
Hervey. 

A highly interesting experiment 
has been made with a machine at 
Ivt'eds, for the purpose of substi- 
tuting the ageiicy of Steam for the 
use of horses, in the conveyance of 
coals on the iron railway, from the 
mines of J. C. Brandling, Esq. : 
in fact, a steam-engine of four horses 
power, which, with the assistance 
of cranks turning a cog-wheel, and 
iron cogs placed at one side of the 
railway, i* capable, when lightly 
loaded, of moving at the speed of 
ten miles an hour. At lour o'clock 
in the afternoon, the machine ran 
from (he coal-staith to (he top of 
Hunslet-Moor, where six, and alter- 
in the press a Historical and Poli- wards eight waggons of coals, each 
tieal Explanation of the Bool: of weighing three tons and a quarter, 
Hex elation, intended to show thai i were hooked to the back part. 
No. XLV. Vol. VIII. Y 



138 



INTELLIGENCE, LITERARY, SCIENTIFIC, &C. 



With tliis immense weight, to 
which, as it approached the town, 
was superadded that of about fifty 
of the spectators, mounted upon the 
waggons, it set off on its return to* lie 
coal-staith, and performed the jour- 
ney, a distance of about a mile and 
a half, principally on a dead level, 
ijr twenty-three minutes, without 
the slightest accident. The expe- 
riment, which was witnessed by 
thousands of spectators, was crown- 
ed with complete success ; and when 
it is considered that this invention 
is applicable to all rail-roads, and 
that, upon the works of Mr. Brand- 
ling alone, the use of fifty horses 
will be dispensed with, and the corn 
necessary for the consumption of at 
least 200 men saved, it cannot but 
be hailed as an invention of great 
public utility. 

The government of France, pre- 
vious to the Revolution, having 
determined to suppress the public 
burial-places in Paris, from an idea 
that they were detrimental to the 
health of the inhabitants, directed, 
that the bones and remains of the 
dead interred in them, should be 
removed to another situation before 
the ground could be applied to other 
purposes. It was accordingly re- 
solved, that they should be depo- 
sited in an old quarry situated be- 
tween the barrier d'Enfer and that 
of St. Jacques, under an extensive 
plain called la Tombe Isoire. The 
following description is given of 
these catacombs, which the public 
are permitted to visit, subject, how- 
ever, to suitable regulations: — You 
are conducted to the entrance of this 
immense charnel-house by an open 
staircase in the area of the buildings 
contiguous to the barrier d'Enfer, 
on the west side of the road leading 
from Paris to Orleans. This stair- 



rase is of the spiral form, commo- 
dious, and well constructed, and 
descends perpendicularly upwards 
of fourscore feet under the surface 
of the earth. You then wander 
with your guides a full quarter of 
an hour along the windings of 
a passage, varying considerably 
in width and in height, but eve- 
ry where more spacious than the 
avenues of the Roman catacombs. 
The sides of the passages, as well 
as the roofs, are formed partly of 
rough hewn-stones and partly of 
the solid rock. At intervals, on the 
right and left, vast excavalions pre- 
sent themselves. These quarries, 
like those in which the vaults of the 
observatory are made, would com- 
municate with an infinite number of 
others beneath Montrouge, and un- 
der the suburbs of St. Jacques, if 
care had not been taken to cut ofi 
the various communications, which, 
dark and intricate as they are, the 
smugglers contrived to use as places 
of concealment for themselves and 
their contraband goods. With re- 
spect to the catacombs, properly 
so called, they are comprehended 
in a vast inclosure separated from 
the ossuaries, and closely shut up. 
The principal entrance to them has 
a sort of vestibule in front, and is 
ornamented with two pilasters of 
the Tuscan order, on each of which 
you read a religious inscription, the 
same, I think, that was composed 
for the gate of the cemetery of St. 
Sulpice : — 

HAS ULTRA METAS 

REQUIESCUNT, 

BEAT1N SPEM EXPECTANTES 

" Beyond these Columns 

They rest in Peace, 

Waiting for 

a 

Blessed Immortality." 

In the interior, the long passages 



MUSIC AT, REVIEW. 



J59 



and innumerable recesses .'ire lined 
with human nones; the larger, such 

un skulls, spines, ikI thigh-bones, 
being unifoi mly j>l iced in front, 
and formed in compartments, sup- 
port the smaller, which are' thrown 
behind, and constitute the melan- 
choly walls. Such of my readers 
as have made on excursion into 
those provinces where the use of 
charnel-honseS in burial-places is 
still preserved, will be able to form 
a correct notion of the species of 
Mosaic to which I allude. If may 
be observed, that, in the dark and 
damp quarries, the bones (1 o not 
blanch. The number of the dead, 
whose bones have been removed to 
the new receptacle, is estimated at 
moteihan tzsomiihnsof individuals ! 
The walk which f took amongthem, 
seemed to exceed the fourth part of 
at league. Tablets are placed here 
and there to indicate the various 
placed from which each particular 
mass of bones had keen conveyed. 
Jn several of the recesses altars are 
formed, some of them resembling 
those that are used in churches; 
others of antique shape, and many 
uneouthly made Of bono cemented 
with mortar. In numberless places 
you find expressed in black charac- 
ters, on a white ground, epitaphs, 
sentences in prose and rhyme, some 
of them religious, some moral, and 
others philosophical, an I all in con- 
formity to the tenets of some syst 
of religion <>r other. Thns, after" 
meeting at the entrance with the 
inscription above cited, expressive 
of the hope of a life to come, you 
read, oh retiring from the subterra- 
nean cavities, this celebrated pas- 
sage, extracted from TheGeorgics: 

Felix qui potuit rerunt cognoscere cam is, 
Alqui; motus entries et inexorabile ftitum 

Subjecit pedibus, strepitumque dcluront is atari. 



Happy t lie man, who, studying Natnre*i la ■• , 
Thro' known effect! can trace the Kcret < anse, 
His mind poaaewing in a ouiel itate — 
Pearleaa of Fortune, and rrngn'd to Fate! 

Dr. Kebreuter, of CarTsrtihc, has 

discovered by a chemical examina- 
tion of potatoes, both in a raw state 
and baked, that they are capable 
of being converted into syrup or 
sugar, without being made into 
starch by a previous process. The 
experiments he has made have, in 
(heir results, entirely answered his 
expectation ; and it is his intention 
to publish a statement of the various 
considerations on which he grounds 
his hopes of improving the manu- 
facture. 

A physician of Naples, named 
Faracce, has lately published a 
memoir, in which he undertakes to 
prove, that the human body may" 
be rendered insensible to the power 
of fire. He directs it to be rubbed 
with the following embrocation : — 
One ounce and a half of alum, 
dissolved in lour ounces of hot wa- 
ter ; to this must be added one 
ounce of fish-glue, and half an 
ounce of gum Arabic. 

A physician of Halle, named 
Lucas, !;as published a pamphlet, 
in which he announces the discovery 
■if a remedy, certain and approved, 
for the rheumatism and palsy. This 
new remedy consists in employing 
the oil of brown bituminous pit- 
coal, which tin; author prepares', 
and apparently keeps the secret io 
himself. 



MUSICAL REVIEW. 

J. B. Cram br 1 s Instructions ftr 

the Piano- Forte, in which the 
first Rudiments, of J/i/s ; e are 
clearly explained, and the prin- 
cipal Rules on the Art of Fin- 



160 



MUSICAL REVIEW. 



gering illustrated with numerous 
and appropriate Examples ; to 
ichich are added, Lessons in the 
principal Major and Minor 
Keys, with a Prelude to each 
Key, composed and jingercd by 
the Author. Pr. 10s. 6d. 
Although several meritorious 
treatises on piano - forte playing 
liave of late years appeared in this 
country, yet a work of instruction 
from the pen of an author of Mr. 
C.'s experience and celebrity, can- 
not fail to attract the notice of the 
musical world ; and the warranty 
of so great a name alone must be 
a source of encouragement and con- 
fidence to the student to begin his 
drill under sucli guidance. The 
didactic or grammatical portion of 
the present publication, is concise 
and clear; that part, in particular, 
which treats of the fingering (pp. 
10 a 17,) is conceived with so 
much system and perspicuity, that 
the learner must be very dull indeed 
if the study thereof will not be pro- 
ductive of a fixed method for the 
use and application of the fingers 
in the most intricate cases. Mr. 
C.'s rules on this head are as simple 
as they are adequate. The illus- 
tration of the player's position by 
means of a drawing, deserves com- 
mendation ; only, if the fair pupil 
were our scholar, we would have 
Jier stoop somewhat less than she 
appears to do in the print. The 
second and practical part of this 
book possesses some peculiarities 
which claim our notice. It consists 
of forty-one lessons in the principal 
major and minor keys, progres- 
sively increasing; in the number of 
sharps and fiats, every major key 
being followed by the allied minor, 
and all preceded by short preludes. 



In the selection of the numerous 
lessons much judgment has been 
exercised. They consist generally 
of well-known and favourite airs 
and pieces, harmonized in an easy 
and pleasing mariner; so that the 
pupil and his hearers will, in most 
cases, be assisted and gratified by 
the recollection of the tune. But 
what, in our opinion, constitutes 
one of the principal merits of this 
work, is the author's method of 
giving explanatory notes to every 
lesson. This is an excellent idea, 
and cannot sufficiently be applaud- 
ed. In these notes, as the lessons 
proceed, every peculiarity of mu- 
sical notation, of expression, and 
of embellishment, is explained at 
the very moment it practically 
occurs: the pupil, in this manner, 
is not fatigued by an endless din of 
dry rules ; here he learns them in a 
way at once more pleasing and in- 
telligible, and what he thus has 
learned will naturally imprint itself 
more forcibly on his memory. AVe 
should on some future occasion be 
happy to see an extension of this 
idea: a movement, either purpose- 
ly composed or taken from a classic 
author, analyzed from beginning to 
end, so as to explain by accom- 
panying observations its whole con- 
struction, its modulations, transi- 
tions, &c. would tend more to the 
advancement of musical knowledge 
than whole theoretical volumes. 
But to return to the publication be- 
fore us, we shall conclude our re- 
marks by briefly stating the con- 
tents of its last part ; an appendix, 
which cursorily and briefly treats of 
the different clefs, of transpos ition, 
intervals, chords, musical accent, 
foreign words, &c. thus complet- 
ing a course of elementary musical 






MUSICAL REVIEW. 



1GI 



instruction, which, without being the hand of a master. We ore far 
too voluminous or expensive, coin- from finding fault with some pas- 
prises every tiling necessary to ini- sages which call forth reminiscences 
tiflte a perfect novice in the first from flu? works of Mozart, ami 
rodiments of piano-forte playing, i more particularly the Requiem: 
Musette, for (he Piano » Forte, what model could we follow with 
composed, find dedicated to I he more propriety, so we do not abso- 
Jiight Hon. Lady Charlotte liilelycopy? which is not the case 
Graham, by T. Latour, Pianiste in this instance. The only obser- 
to his Royal Highness the Prince vation we will venture, is an im- 
Regent. Pr. :;s. ]■ pression of Mr. S. having clothed 

Like many of Mr. L.'s prqeluc- his text in a aarb one shade too 



t ions which have engaged our cri* 

tical notice on former occasions, 
liis " Musette" (bag-pipe) posses- 
ses an agreeable fluency ;\va\ light- 



deep and sombre. There is a me- 
lancholy vein, we allow, pervading 
(he beautiful address of the elegant 
poet; bu( it is of that sweetly pen- 



somencss, divested of harmonic sive kind which was expn 
efforts of a higher order. The sub- j a less lavish expence of chromatic 
ject is pleasing and expressive of the II profundity: whereas the introduc- 
pasloral monotony of the instru- ,: tory symphony, and several subse- 
nient it is meant to imitate. Of (he I quent ideas, syncopations, unusual 
ascent, (p. 5, I. G), we cannot speak and bold transitions, partake of the 
so favourably as of the two pages strains of a funeral dirge. To 
following, which contain some very analyze the individual beauties of 
creditable evolutions on the minor \. this composition would lead to no- 
scales in the spirit of the subject ; filing short of a catalogue raisonni 
the eighth page also, where the of almost every bar, such is thecon- 
bass is appropriately employed in stimulate skill and sterling science 
glancing at the theme, has our , displayed in the construction of 
assent. Moderate abilities will be every part. The piece is worthy 
able to execute the " Musette" of the author and the gentleman to 
with satisfaction and credit. I whom it is dedicated, Mr. Kirk- 



Quccn of the Silver Bozo," a Can- 
zone!, the Words from Charlotte 



man — a name many years in high 
estimation with every lover of har- 



Smilh, composed, and dedicated^, mony. To the family of (lie Kirk- 
10 Itis, Friend Joseph Kirk man. \ mans we are, perhaps, indebted 
Senior, by C. Stokes. Pr.2i.6d. for no inconsiderable share of the 
If the author wishes for a pass- | progress which music has ma< 



port to introduce himself to (he 
first composers of the present day, 



(his country. The barpsichoi 
(lie late Mr. Kirkman were unri- 



at home or abroad, let him lake vailed, while that instrument con- 
this canzonet in his pocket. It is II tinued in vogue ; and since it has 

short, but like the head which been superseded by (he universal 



BuonaroUi sketched with charcoal 

on (he wall of the Casino Farnese, 



substitution of (lie piano-forte, (he 
latter instrument has derived equal 



and which has been preserved with benefit ami perfection from theme- 
religious veneration, it proclaims! chanical skill, care, am\ ingenuity 



1 62 



iMUSICAL IlEVIEW. 



of the present Mr. Kirkman, whose 
piano-fortes of every description, 
independently of their finished and 
durable workmanship, combine a 
fulness of tone with a vocal sweet- 
ness of sound unexcelled, if •.quai- 
led, by the productions of any of 
his numerous competitors. 

Granule Sonafe pour le Piano- 
Forte, composee par Jean Mug- 
nie. Pr. 4s. 

An allegro moderafo in (G) of 
fifteen pages, and another allegro 
in the same key of five pages — a 
strong and masterly work, which 
might well have been called a 
Grand Concerto, such is the bril- 
liancy and fire which 1 lie author has 
infused into this composition. In 
point of difficulty, too, that appella- 
tion would not have been misplaced ; 
for we would not advise, except 
for study's sake, any performer to 
venture upon it without being com- 
pletely master of his instrument; 
such is the intricacy of the passages, 
the nice division of time, and the 
use of frequent minute rests in a 
variety of places. Of melody there 
is perhaps not so much as could 
have been wished, even that of the 
subject not being fully carried to 
completion ; but in regard to modu- 
lations, the greatest variety is to be 
met with. Here the author seems 
to be perfectly at home; his fertile 
imagination, assisted by his eminent 
skill and science, carries him with 
ease through every key, and recon- 
ducts him to the point in view by 
unexpected and bold transitions. 
Of the passages that may be quoted 
as vouchers for our assertion we 
will only select p. 4, to the part 
which leads to four sharps; p. 5, 
U. 4 and 5, and the subsequent able 



return to the original key. The 
termination, p. 7, (and of the se- 
cond part, p. 15,) is highly interest- 
ing. Other beautiful ideas occur in 
p. 9, 11. 4, 5, 6— p. 10—/;. 11, 
//. 5, 6, 7 — and, in short, in every 
part of the first allegro. The se- 
cond allegro has also groat claims to 
our favour. The theme is a very 
clever polacca, and the ideas de- 
duced from it are replete with in- 
terest ; the fine transitions, ;;. 17, 
and the part, p. 18, where the spirit 
of the motivo is adverted to under 
the key of C, call for our commen- 
dation ; and still more so the whole 
of p. 19, down to the pause in the 
seventh, every part of which ex- 
hibits the talents of the author in 
the brightest light. In the termina- 
tion, p. 20, too, we discover turns 
which partake of Mr. M.'s indivi- 
dual originality. 

" Ah! think ofme" a Ballad for 
the Voice and Piano- Forte or 
Harp, composed by an Officer 
in the Army. Pr. Is. 6d. 
A tender farewel of a warrior to 
his love; and a very fair compo- 
sition for a son of Mars. The 
melody and arrangement of this 
ballad are certainly plain, yet there 
is taste and some harmonic combi- 
nation in the tout-ensemble, which 
plead in its favour, even taking into 
account some stiffness in (he com- 
plexion of one or two passages, 
especially in the two concluding 
lines, where, instead of pausing 
on the common chord of A b (at 
" ever'' 1 ), we should have preferred 
the seventh of the tonic, and by a 
a varied repetition of the words 
u remembered oft by w<°," endea- 
voured to arrive at a more complete 
close. The Db(/).3, I. 1, b. 2), 
placed to humour a regular pro- 



MCSICAL UF.VICW. 



Ju'3 



grcss of (lie second, is incompatible' 
with (lie G in the bass. 
No. X. Asturian Air, with Vari- 
ations for the Piano-Forte, 
Harp, and Flute, composed, and 
inscribed ta Mrs. Lamb ton, by 
.1. Mazzinghi. Price 5s. — Single, 
:}s. 

The theme which Mr. M. has 
presented ns with under the deno- 
mination of an Asturian air, is the 
well Known Spanish Guaracha 
dance, with some slight alterations; 
one of which, viz. the cutting two 
(| hi vers from the conclusion, and 
prefixing them to the beginning of 
the motivo, affects the originality 
of the national air. The different 
variations devised from it are set in 
an easy, unostentatious style, and 
their effect, with the junction of the 
harp (which is essential), cannot 
fail to interest the amateur ami his 
friendly audience : here and there 
we think a little less repetition of 
ideas would have added to the 
effect ; but, upon the whole, consi- 
dered as light music, the Asturian 
Air will be found agreeable. 
The Siege of Badajoz, for the 
Piano-Forte, with Accompani- 
ments (ad libitum) for a Flute, 
or Violin and Violoncello, com- 
posed, and inscribed to the Earl 
of JVellington and his brave 
Army, by J. Gildon. Pr. 3s. 
Altho' the present patriotic effusion 
of Mr. G. is not likely, like Kotzwa- 
ra's prototype, to outlive the remem- 
brance of the event it sin<i-s ; yet, con- 
sidering the haste with which such 
pieces must, in these times, be pro- 
duced, in order to keep pace with 
the public's fickle attention of the 
day, there is sufficient display of 
ingenuity in the present com posi- 
tion to attr.ict favourable notice. 



j We can see that the author has 
! read and conceived his subject with 
! a military eye, and appropriately 
I represented the principal features 
! of the glorious event. The slow 
march is imposing, and contains an 
effectful application of the trum- 
pets. Against the cannonade, too, 
we have nothing to say ; but the 
council of war is a musical curio- 
sity ; while the talkative junior ge- 
nerals seem fo give their hasty opi- 
nion in rapid semiquavers, souk; 
old codger of a Nestor gravely utters 
his few but weighty words in bass 
semibreves. After some flourishes 
of trumpets, drums, and bugles, 
begins the attack, the rattling work 
of death — it is spirited, quite; in the 
style of the well known Battle of 
Prague. The grave contains a less 
portion of science than we could 
have wished ; God save the King 
is not forgotten, and a lively finale 
closes the whole. Ju point of exe- 
cution, the amateur will find Mr. 
G.'s Siege of Badajoz of much less 
difficulty than Lord Wellington's. 
A Collection of popular Airs, ar- 
ranged as Rondos, or with Vari- 
ations for the Piano-Forte, by 
Samuel Wesley. No. I. Pr. 2s. 
This appears to be the first num- 
ber of a periodical series of popular 
airs, to be published by Mr. \Y . 
Nodsoll ; and if (hose that are to 
follow, shall correspond with the 
present number, the intrinsic value 
of the collection will be inferior to 
nothing of the kind we are acquaint- 
ed with. The composition before 
us is another specimen of the solid- 
ity of ham ■ <i< science possessed by 
Mr. S. Wc-,l;-y. Its simple Irish 
Ibetne is turned and handled with 
consummate art. By means of sk.il- 
; fu| counterpoint, , . ■;.! li 



Id 



NAPOLEON, KING OF HOME. 



modulation, a protean variety has 
been infused into every part of it. 
To the common ear, however, we 
cannot, in this instance, promise 
an agreeable musical treat ; it re- 
qnircs study to understand that 
which is studied. Like the works 
of Michel Angelo, which (while 
they excite our admiration at the 
theoretical skill of the painter, and 
his strength of conception,) exhibit 



this performance be altogether his 
first essay in composition; for its 
texture bespeaks considerable ex- 
perimental familiarity with the 
rules, and even niceties of compo- 
sition. The style of the allegro, in 
two fiats, is easy and not n n fre- 
quently elegant ; a respectable por- 
tion of science and skilful arrange- 
ment pervade tlie whole, and the 
violin accompaniment is set with 



more of the muscular and anatomi- much taste. The second move- 
cal outline, than soft and elegant |j ment, an allegretto in the same key, 
rotundity of contour — so do several ! merits our particular attention, at 
of Mr. W.'s productions we are least with us it is a great favourite. 



acquainted with, seem to want some- 
what more of melodiousness to re- 
lieve those elaborate and abstruse 
speculations in which our author is 
excelled by none of his contempora- 
ries in this country. — Augebit me- 
rit ion dulcis mix tar a honor um ! 
A Sonata for the Piano - Forte, 
with an Accompaniment for a 



The theme and superstructure are. 
pleasing; and above all, the part 
in five fiats, with its original octave 
passages, deserves unqualified com- 
mendation. So good a beginning 
entitles us to look to future excel- 
lence, and we should be wanting 
in our duty were we not to encou- 
rage the author to persevere in a 



Violin, composed, and dedicated \\ pursuit so laudably commenced. 
to Mrs. Oslrehan of Barbadoes, i - 

by Timothy Win, Wall. Op. I. *** The Devil's Bridge, Mr. 
Pr. 4s. || Seetze's Elements of Music, and 

Although the author produces oMer Novelties x£c have been fa- 



this sonata as his first opera, we ! 
have good reason to doubt whether I 



•soured with, are unavoidably post' 
poned for next month's review. 



g ? aataia ' a-LxL a 



NAPOLEON, KING OF ROME. 

(With an Engraving.) 



The proprietor of iheRepositor?/, 
desirous of presenting his readers 
with the annexed fac-simile of a 
medal, recently struck at Paris, 
and conceiving, at the same time, 
that it would be deemed a want of 
respect to his subscribers, not to 
accompany the gift with a small 
portion of what is called " letter- 
press," has requested the writer of 
this to undertake the office of cice- 
rone on an occasion where he has rea- 



son to apprehend that his informa- 
tion is in no way more extensive than 
that of his readers, independently of 
the ungraciousness of the task; for, 
considering the unbounded venera- 
tion we entertain for every thing 
that proceeds from, or concerns the 
great genius, conqueror, and sove- 
reign (whose praises have recently 
resounded even in the hallowed 
walls of a certain senate), it was not 
kind, we think, to impose upon us 







M 



^71 



St K ■ HB • 






NAPOLEON, KINO OF ROME, 



1G6 



an obligation of treating of the .1 addition of some hundreds of pro- 
family of t twit great and illustrious ,| clamationstodiffereut nations (ever 



man, at a time when his a.'re, as 
lie terms if, appears under a consi 



faith full J adhered to), and of Im- 
perial speeches to potentates, senates, 



derable off uscatiou, a sort of eclipse, ' and delegates, will hereafter enable 
produced by the hostile approach (the Imperial historiographer to put 



of a southern constellation of the 
first magnitude, and a nebuh us 
affection of its brightness bj coming 
in contact with an auro a borealh 

Hut good-humoured as we ai , 
anil willing to oblige, we shall, in 
spiteof our inward reluctance, pro- 
ceed to the execution of our office. 

Beginning with the first of the 
three per contra heads, the one 
crowned with a wreath of Salamanca 
laurel, we are warranted in presum- 
ing the t'fli^y, as well as the person 
itself, so perfectly known and en- 
deared to all Europe, that any illus- 
tration of his transcendent qualities 
and virtues would be deemed utterly 
superfluous. On the subject of his 
pedigree, however, which, till very 
lately, had laboured under some 
doubtful obloquy, we arc enabled 
to communicate the important infor- 
mation, that a. learned French gene- 
alogist has recently proved, in the 
most clear and incontrovertible man- 
ner, that tb£ Great Napoleon derives 
his descent, in lima recto, from 
the Emperor Charlemagne; a ser 



together the life of his hero a son 

aire, and without labour or diffi- 
culty, 1 xcept perhaps a short dying 
speech. 

The next portrait which engages 
our attention, is that of Maria 
Louisa, one of the two wives of 
Napoleon the Great, the fortunate 
daughter of Francis, Emperor of 
what once was called Germany. 
That country, in all ages the pa- 
rent stock of European sovereigns, 
as a reward for the meekness with 
which it has hitherto endured a few 
trifling inconveniencies arising from 
the fraternal embrace of Gallic love, 
has been honoured with the proud 
distinction of being allowed to fur- 
nish the means of perpetuating the 
dynasty of the benefactor of the 
human race. Of Louisa we have 
very little additional information to 
communicate, beyond what has been 
given in a former number of the 
Repository* . Indeed, the most 
shining qualities of the consort of 
so great a character as that of Napo- 
leon, must needs be obscured by 



vice to history and humanity for ! the galaxy of giory which radiaU 

from the diadem of her husband. 
Hence all that we occasionally learn 
niu of the Legion of Honour. As of the empress, is confined to an 
to the deeds of Napoleon, since account of some rapid journey in 



which, no doubt, (he ingenious 
author was rewarded with the insig 



every man tells his story best him 
self, we take leave to refer the cour- 
teous reader to the Imperial bulle 



company with her lord and master, 
of a him 1 mi!: party in the Forest of 
Fontainebleau, or of an evening 



tins, as containing the most concise, || promenade through the plain uf 
animated, amusing, and no doubt Greneile. Josephine, indeed, was 
religiously true record of the | not unfrcquently the subject of 
achievements of this great and good 



man. These bulletins, with the || 
No. XLV. Vol. VIII. 



Vol, IV. p. 415. 



166 



NAPOLEON, KIN* OF ROME. 



flattering addresses from the lips of I 
loyal Frenchmen ; but to Maria 
Louisa their incense is strewed with 
a niggardly hand. 

The last, and most interesting 
bust placed on the obverse of our 
medal, is that of Napoleon Francis 
Joseph Charles,King of Rome, heir 
apparent to the throne of the West. 
Our readers unquestionably will be 
struck by the marked resemblance 
it bears to the father; but we trust 
so much in their good sense, as not 
to apprehend their participating in 
the affected and whining commise- 
ration with which some shortsighted 
politicians have viewed the portrait 
of this illustrious infant. These 
weak and dull observers seemed to 
imply a fearful uncertainty, which, 
according to their shallow judg- 
ment, hangs over the fate of the 
Imperial heir ; not reflecting, that 
the word of Napoleon solemnly 
pronounced on the brilliant desti- 
nies of his first-born, possesses that 
sort of oracular magic which, pour 
ainsi dire, controuls fate itself. As 
if the great ruler of things, who 
recently promised to his goodly 
city of Tours nine years of abun- 
dant harvest after this one year of 
starvation, could not do something 
of the same kind for his little boy. 
Indeed, we flatter ourselves no fur- 
ther doubts will be entertained re- 
specting the future greatness of 
Master Napoleon, when we com- 
municate to the curious reader some 
of the early presages of mental re- 
semblance to the sire, already dis- 
covered in the pursuits of the King 
of Rome, such as an unconquerable 
obstinacy, a predilection to objects 
not his own, a restless propensity 
to climb up to the most elevated si- 
tuations around him, &c. Some- 



times, it is true, as was the case on 
the 22d of July last, an occasional 
tumble interrupts the aspiring evo- 
lutions of the venturesome child ; 
but an innate greatness, manifest 
even at his tender age, does not 
allow him to burst into those dis- 
tressing bawlings which distort the 
features of common brats. The 
preceding observations may suffice 
to gratify the curiosity of our read- 
ers on the subject of young Napo- 
leon ; should they be desirous of a 
few further particulars, webeg leave 
to refer them to a former number of 
the Repository*, where the infant 
is represented in his Imperial cra- 
dle, embellished with a variety of 
attributes amply explained. L. G. 

The following list, given in the 
French Court Calendar, as the 
" Household of the Children of 
France," may be considered as pe- 
culiarly appropriated to the King 
of Rome, that monarch being the 
only child to whom the denomina- 
tion of a child of France, under the 
new regime, can be applied. 

Household of the Children of France. 

GOVERNESS. 

Madame La Comtesse de Montesquiou. 

UN DER-GOVERN ESSES. 

Madame La Baronne de Sou hers. 
Madame La Baronne de Mesgrigny. 

Department of Health. 
M. Bourdois, Physician. 
M. Ausrty, Surgeon. 
M. Husson, Physician Vaccinator. 

We have been favoured by an 
ingenious friend with the subjoined 

LINES, 
On seeing the Medallion of the King of 

Rome. 
Oh ! infant born to regal slate, 
Who can divine thv future fate ? 



* Number V. p. 295. 






RETROSPECT OF POLITICS. 



167 



Thy father, rais'd by Fortune's whim, 
On Fortune's tide for years may swim ; 
But while he floats with fav'ring stream, 
His wond'rous life is but a dream ; 
A daemon rais'd, all crimes to dare, 
To cheat and fight, then melt to air. 
Now prompt on horrors to engage, 
He rides the war's and whirlwind's rage ; 
But time may come, whendash'd to earth, 
In death as lowly as in birth, 
His end may serve, mid virtue's scorn, 
From crimes posterity to warn. 
Then thou, a cradled monarch now, 
With pond'rous crown on baby brow. 



Toman's estate may'st creep unknown, 
Sudden from prince to peasant grown; 
And passing hinds may point t'uee out, 
To moralize the rabble rout j 
Say how thy sirefill'd thrones with dread, 
Forced a high princess to his bed, 
Laid nations waste with fire and sword, 
And for a law imposed his word ; 
Till like a bubble, swollen ?.m\ burst, 
He sunk to nothingness accurst : 
Yet, in its wisdom, Ileav'n decreed 

To save this sample of the breed ■ 

But Austria's blood half fills thy veins, 
And farther scrutiny restrains. 

E. F. 



« mjj..ui. c-TOT» 



RETROSPECT OF POLITICS. 

SPANISH PENINSULA. 

BATTLE OF SALAMANCA, 

'2 2d July, 1812. 
On u bosom still elated anil ex 



but the attack did not succeed — 
our loss was considerable, and among 
the killed we have to regret Major- 
General LJuv.es, -who fell while 
mounting the breach. This failure 



panded by the cheering intelligence [; brought Lord Wellington h: ckfrom 



of the greatest, most glorious, and 
important victory ever gained by 



the army, and after receiving a fresh 
convoy of ammunition, the three 



a British army, it -will require forts were anew attacked, set on fire 



both an effort on our part to lower 
the ebullition of patriotic rapture 
into the sober language of history, 
and the indulgence of our readers, 
if, with our whole mind absorbed 
in the joyful consideration of the 
memorable event and its momentous 
results, our attention shall be drawn 
off from occurrences comparatively 
less important. 

Our last report left Lord "Wei 



with red hot bails, and two of them 
carried by storm on the 27(h June. 
; That of St. Vincente, being on fire 
within, and having already lost its 
I outworks, obtained a capitulation 
, on the same day. Their garrisons, 
| consisting of about SOO men, be- 
I came prisoners. All (his happened. 
| in sight of the French army under 
! Marmonr, who, for the week pre- 
ceding, had exerted all the myste- 



lington greatly in advance of Sala- ' ries of French tactics to out-general 



manca, observing the dubious and 
menacing movements of Marmont 
along the Douro, w bile the siege of 
the forts of Salamanca, viz. St. 
Vincente, St. Cayetano, and La 
Merced, was proceeding. On the 
23<\ June the second of these forts 



Lord Wellington by every kind of 
manoeuvre, marches, and counter- 
marches ; but finding the forts of 
Salamanca lost, the French marshal 
retired with his army to the Douro, 
in the direction of Toro and Torde- 
sillas. Thither he was closely fol- 



was assailed by storm under the \ lowed by Lord Wellington, who 
direction of Major-General Cliuton ; | in his advance arrived as far east- 

1 2 



m 



•RETROSPFCT Of POLITICS. 



ward as liurda, a town within a few 
leagues only from Val lad olid, on flic 
]efi of the Douro. At Rucda Lord 
Wellington continued some time 
(o observe the movements of Mar- 
mont, who had meanwhile crossed 
the Douro, and whose army ex- 
tended on the right of that river 
from Tordesillas westward. A sus- 
picious activity and bustle wasclear- 
ly perceptible among the French 
troops, and the keen eye of our 
general foresaw that his opponent 
meditated a decisive blow. A fur- 
ther advance into the heart of Spain 
was therefore the less advisable, as 
Marmont, from being in possession 
of the whole northern bank of the 
Douro, might, by a single day's 
march, cross the river in his lord- 
ship's rear, and interpose the whole 
French army between our's and Sa- 
lamanca as well as Ciudad Rodrigo, 
and thus cut off all our communi- 
cations with Portugal. To frustrate 
such a design, Lord Wellington 
had concentrated his army on the 
Guarenaon the 16th. On the same 
day a considerable part of the 
French forces crossed the Douro 
atToro; but finding the disposi- 
tions made in anticipation of their 
design, they recrossed that river 
the same night, again marched 
enstward to Tordesillas, where, on 
the 17th, the whole French army 
once more crossed the Douro, and 
by a forced march of forty miles 
arrived at La Nava. One of our 
positions wa« attacked on the 18tli at 
Castrejon, but bravely maintained 
by Sir S.Cotton, wiiich afforded time 
to the army to retire in admirable 
order from that position, the left 
flank of which had already been 
turned by Marmont. In the further 
advance of the enemy, hy the most, 



skilful 'ranceuvres and marches, a 
more serious cavalry and infantry 
engagement took place on the same 
day, in which the enemy was com- 
pletely defeated with great loss in 
killed and wounded, and 240 pri- 
soners, among whom was the French 
General Carrier. The above is but 
an imperfect sketch of the intricate 
and manifold manoeuvres incessant- 
ly resorted to by the consummate 
skill of the great tactician Mar- 
mont, to allure or force Lord Wel- 
lington into a position of disadvan- 
tage, not only up to the 18th, but 
as far the 21st of July, when, by a 
continuance of similar and still more 
complicated evolutions, Marmont 
reached the Tormes. Our general, 
constantly penetrating the enemy's 
designs, and defeating all his views 
by equally, or rather more skilful 
counter-manoeuvres in a parallel di- 
rection, also arrived on the Tormes 
on the same day. On the 22d the 
principal part of the French army 
crossed to the left bank of that river, 
a few miles above Salamanca, and 
our Fabius, constantly watching 
every one of their steps, also crossed 
close by Salamanca. A battle, it 
was evident, could not now be 
avoided much longer, since Mar- 
mont'sleft wing in expanding itself 
westward actually stretched to the 
road of Ciudad Rod r igo, and to- 
wards the Portuguese frontier. 
Moreover, our general had received 
certain intelligence of Gen. Chauvel 
having arrived within a day's march 
of the enemy with the horse artille- 
ry and the cavalry of the army of 
the North ; nor was it less certain 
that Joseph Bonaparte had left 
Madrid with 10,000 infantry and 
3000 cavalry to reinforce Marmont. 
Such an addition of loice wouhl 






RETROSPECT OF POLITICS. 



169 



have caused fearful odds against 
our army, already inferior to that 
of Marinout alone. In the morn- 
ing of llic 22d both armies ma- 
noeuvred in the sight of each 
other, selecting positions, and form- 
ing their lines for the Impending 
contest. Our rii^lit leaned on one 
of two hills called Am piles, the 
other being) from its too great dis- 
tance, deemed without the range of 
our position. Of this hill, how- 
ever, the enemy, by cleverly mask- 
ing his evolutions, found means to 
possess himself in the course of the 
day. Uut Lord Wellington, aware 
of the advantage it gave Marmont 
over the English flank, extended his 
army in potence to the heights be- 
hind the Arapiles, and threw a body 
of light infantry into the village of 
the same name, constantly observ- 
ing every step and motion of the 
enemy. At two in the afternoon 
Marmonfs final resolution seemed 
to develope itself. I ruler cover of 
n heavy, bat harmless cannonade, 
his army began greatly to ex/end 
itself to the left, probably with the 
view of enveloping our post on one 
of the Arapiles, cramping altogether 
our riglrl wing, and from thence 
attacking and breaking our line. 
Here our great, captain's own words 
arc as follow : — " The extension of 
his line to his left, however, and its 
advance upon our right, notwith- 
standing that his troops occupied 
still very .strong ground, and his 
position was well defended by can- 
non, gave me an opportunity for 
attacking him, for which I had long 
been anxious." Lord Wellington 
having previously strengthened his 
right, turned, attacked, and over- 
threw (be enemy's left. This ser- 
vice was ably conducted by Major- 



General Pakenham, while Briga- 
dier •■ General Bradford's brigade, 
the 5lh and 6th divisions, and the 
,avalry under Sir Sfaplefon Cotton 
attacked in front, and drove the 
enemy before them from one height 
to another. In this charge Major- 
General Le March ant was killed. 
One division only of the enemy's 
left seemed determined to arrest our 
success ; it fought valiantly, and 
seconded by the troops that had 
been driven from the Arapiles, even 
repulsed our 4ih division. Mar- 
shal Beresford, however, who hap- 
pened to be on the spot, sending 
for fresh troops, and making new 
dispositions, restored the battle to 
its former success, although, unfor- 
tunately, he received a wound, as 
did likewise Lieutenant - General 
Leith. 

The enemy's left was now com- 
pletely defeated, but his right, 
strengthened by the accumulation 
of the beaten troops from the left, 
continued to resist vigorously. 
Lord Wellington instantly made 
fresh dispositions for turning their 
right. It was at the close of day 
when this service was performed 
with a valour which overthrew every 
opposition ; and night had just set 
in when this grand army of the 
French fled in all directions. Such 
a rout has not occurred in the mili- 
tary history of the French, since 
the sway of Bonaparte; and no 
achievement of the English, since 
the Duke of Marlborough's time, 
can be compared to the bade of 
Salamanca. Indeed, in its decisive 
results, if promises to eclipse the 
most renowned deeds of that great 
warrior. 

Reports from all quarters agree, 
that, but for the cover of the night, 



170 



RETROSPECT OP POLITICS. 



the greatest part of the French array 
would have been destroyed. As 
much as the darkness would permit, 
they were pursued that very night, 
and numbers of prisoners made. 
The next morning, at break of day, 
the pursuit was vigorously resum- 
ed ; at La Serna we came up with 
the French rear-guard, which was 
immediately attacked by our ca- 
valry. The French horse fled 
shamefully, leaving their infantry 
to their fate. A gallant charge of 
the heavy brigade of the German 
Legion, under Major-General Bock, 
broke a square body of French in- 
fantry, and took prisoners three 
whole battalions. 

The loss of the French in the 
three actions above-mentioned, viz. 
at Castrejon on the 18th, near Sala- 
manca on the 22d, and at La Serna 
on the 23d, is immense ; and as it 
is not precisely to be ascertained 
from our official dispatches, we shall 
endeavour to form a cool estimate 
of the same by the concurrence of 
private reports, and some private 
letters which we have seen ; stating 
first the loss of the allies (that is, 
British and Portuguese, for the 
Spaniards lost only two killed and 
four wounded) : — 

On the Killed. Wounded 

18th. 95 393 

22d. 692 4266 

23d. 51 60 

Totals 833 4719 316 58/3 

The private letters state, that the 
fields of Salamanca, for two leagues, 
were covered with dead bodies, and 
it is even asserted in the proportion 
of three French to one of the allies. 
This may be exaggerated ; but we 
think it a very low computation to 
conceive that an army so completely 
routed, lost double the number of 



Missing. 


Total. 


54 


542 


256 


5214 


6 


117 



that of the conquerors^ besides pri* 
soners. 

Hence we have in killed and wounded 11,00* 
And of the prisoners (at least S000 in 
number) we shall deduct one half 
as wounded, thus leaving sound 
ones 4,00(» 



Total loss of the French 



15,00» 

We are compelled to resort to 
this mode of computation, by the 
practice of Lord Wellington of 
never stating the loss of his adver- 
sary, in his public dispatches ; but 
in a private letter, his lordship has 
estimated the diminution of the 
French army, during the five event- 
ful and glorious days, at even 
17,000. Among their prisoners are, 
1 general, 3 colonels, 3 lieutenant- 
colonels, and 130 officers of inferior 
rank ; Marmont himself was wound- 
ed twice, and had his arm ampu- 
tated in consequence ; 4 French 
generals were killed and several 
wounded. Our trophies consist of 
two eagles, six colours, and twenty 
pieces of cannon. The French di- 
vision from the North joined their 
defeated brethren in arms the day 
after the battle ; and Joseph Bona- 
parte, in his march to join Mar- 
mont, had learned his defeat, on 
the 25th, at Blasco Sancho, not 
two days' journey from Salamanca : 
he instantly retraced his steps, for- 
tunately for him ; for, a few hours 
after, some of our cavalry entered 
the, place and took 27 men and 2 
officers of his own cavalry, left 
behind to follow his rear guard. 

The rapid and incessant pursuit 
of the French by Lord Wellington 
is another proof of the great talents 
and combination of our commander. 
On the 28th, he had already ad- 
vanced as far as Olmeda, driving 
one column of the French towards 



IlETROSTECT OF POLITICS, 



171 



the bridge on the DouroatTnulclIn, 
-where they would probably cross 
that river, in the same manner as 
the other division had done the day 
before near Puente de Donro. 
Some incoherent and hastv intel- 



Wellington, finding t!ie operation 
proceed slowly, and knowing the 
garrison to be weak, ordered the 
siege to be converted into a strict 
blockade, and the rct>t of the army 
to join him. This has been done, 



ligence ofthe immortal glory earned || and the Gallician troops, to the 
on the 22d July, had reached N Eng- !| number of 8000 men, as it is re- 



land from Corunna as early as the 
4th August. Ten days succeeded 
without the arrival of the official 
dispatches, and doubts of the au- 
thenticity of the news gradually 
became more and more general, till 
the arrival of Lord Clinton with the 
Official report and the trophies con- 
firmed the event, and, as by an 
electric stroke, filled the bosom of 
every inhabitant of the metropolis 
with enthusiasm and delight. For 
three nights (17th, 18th,"and 19th 
August) all London, at the sponta- 
neous impulse of its enraptured 
population, shone in a blaze of 
light; and the conqueror of Mar- 
mont has been raised by the Prince 
Regent to the dignity of Marquis, 
by the title of Marquis Wellington, 
of Wellington in the county of 
Somerset. And in consideration of 
the valiant conduct of the King's 
German Legion on frequent former 
occasions, and particularly at the 
battle of Salamanca, the Prince Re- 
gent has granted to all the officers 
in the Legion permanent rank in the 
British army from the date of their 
commissions. 

But to return to the north of 
Spain, the field of British glory, 
■we have only to add, that the ad- 
vance of Lord Wellington into the 
province of Leon enabled the Spa- 
nish army under Gen. Santocildes 
(oh, -wonder!) likewise to venture 
forward. The siege of Astorga 
was its maiden enterprize ; but Lord 



ported, have arrived at Medina del 
Campo. Zaroora, and we believe 
Toro, still contain French garri- 
sons, which, after our succcs, will 
be glad to capitulate. The Asturias 
are free from the French, and, 
owing to the battle of Salamanca, 
even St. Andero has been hastily 
abandoned to the Spaniards and Sir 
Home Popham. 

The latter officer has for this 
month past been employed on the 
northern coast of Spain in a service 
more useful than brilliant. With 
a small squadron of ships and a few 
hundred marines, he has, in con- 
cert with the patriots on shore, 
beaten up the quarters of the French 
in a variety of points along the Bay 
of Biscay. The constant alarm 
which his successive debarkations 
created, obliged the French to keep 
a considerable force solely employ- 
ed to watch his motions. Mina is 
said to have taken Vittoria by 
storm; and Duran, surprising the 
French garrison of Tudela on the 
Ebro, has seized or destroyed a train 
of artillery and a convoy of stores, 
destined for Marmont's army, and 
coming from Saragossa. 

In surveying the south of Spain, 
we find General Hill, by the last 
accounts, at Almendralejo. His 
army, obviously destined to observe 
passively the motions of Marshal 
Soulf, had within the last month 
more than once alternately advanced 
and retreated between the two points 



172 



RETROSPECT OF POLITICS. 



of Albuera and Llerena. These 
movements were attended with no 
actions of any consequence. In 
Cadiz matters remain as before, ex- 
cept that the inhabitants are fre- 
quently annoyed by the shells, 
which the new-invented mortars of 
the French contrive to throw into 
the very midst of the town. 

Ballasteros, ever active and enter- 
prizing-, had recently moved his 
army in the direction of Malaga, 
which city he actually entered on 
the 14th ; but not being able to 
attack the castle, he contented him- 
self with destroying what hostile 
property he could lay hands on, 
and left the place after a clay's stay. 
The French, profiting by his ab- 
sence, moved a strong column of 
about 6000 men down upon St. 
Roch and Algesiras ; so that Ballas- 
teros is now absolutely cut off from 
bis former station in the lines of 
Gibraltar, and almost surrounded. 
To assist him in extricating himself 
from so alarming a dilemma, 3000 
men have sailed from Cadiz to ope- 
rate a diversion in his favour at 
Tarifta, and transports have gone 
from Gibraltar eastward, to bring off 
this brave band and their leader in 
case of necessity. 

From Valencia and Catalonia we 
have no intelligence of any mo- 
ment. Important events, however, 
are likely soon to take place, even 
in that quarter. The expedition 
from Sicily, consisting of between 
6 and 7000 British, has arrived in 
Minorca, where 3000 Spanish from 
Majorca, and as many from Car- 
thagena and Alicant, will join the 
armament. A considerable train of 
artillery, likewise, from Gibraltar 
will accompany this army. Their 
destination is stated to be Catalonia ; 



but wheresoever they land, their 
speedy arrival will be of the greatest 
importance, were it only to divert 
Suchet from detaching any of his 
force to the interior of Spain. 

SPANISH COLONIES. 

The variety of important intelli- 
gence from the mother country and 
the rest of Europe, obliges us to 
defer the notice of the few interest- 
ing facts properly belonging to this 
head, for our next month's report. 

RUSSIA AND NORTH OF EUROPE. 

Since our last report, which car- 
ried the French armies across the 
Niemen, and recorded their ap- 
proach to Wilna up to the 261 h of 
June, Bonaparte has made rapid 
strides towards the heart of the 
Russian dominions. To give our 
readers a perfectly clear narrative 
of the events which have taken 
place between the above date and 
the 25th of July, when, by the 9th 
bulletin, we find his head-quarters 
at Bechencovinsky, on the left bank 
of the Dwina, and some of his troops 
even at Polotsk on the opposite side, 
is not in our power; since the 
French bulletins, as usual, teem 
with bombastic falsehoods, and the 
Russian official accounts, as pub- 
lished in the Petersburg Gazette, 
although evidently more sober and 
correct, are extremely confused, 
unconnected, and defective. Wc 
must, therefore, content ourselves 
with cautiously collecting materials 
from both parties, and stating such 
prominent, isolated facts as appear 
to be put beyond a doubt, by cor- 
responding internal evidence. On 
the 28lh of June the French entered 
VV r ilna, which had already been 
evacuated by the Russians, who, 
adhering to their previous plan, 
retreated in every direction, and 



nr.TROSPF.CT OF POLITICS. 



it. 



it) tlie best order. Their different 
corps (Fur m cY, however, do hot ftp- 
pear to have been well cemented 

together by proper points of com- 
niunication. Of this Bonaparte im- 
mediately availed himself. His co- 
lumns were manoeuvred forward 
■with (lie rapidity of lightning, in 
hopes of intercepting (lie retreating 
corps of ihe Russians; but the lat- 
ter withdrew with such system and 
skill, as to elude all the efforts of 
their enemy ; efforts which must 
have been extremely vigorous and 
forced, as the bulletins admit the 
loss of some thousands of horses, 
occasioned, ;is they state, by their 
bidding deiianceto (he impediments 
of nature and the elements. One 
only advantage, and an essential 
one, seems to have been the fruit of 
their bold activity. The army of 
Prince Bagrathion, styled the se- 
cond army of the West, not suffi- 
ciently in communication with the 
first, or main army, and stationed 
in Volhynia, was just advancing 
towards Wilrta by forced marches, 
to join the first, when Napoleon, 
with his usual decision, manoeuvred 
the bulk of his troops southwards, 
and succeeded in forcing Bagra- 
thion across the Bereczina on the 
Boristhenes, thus increasing greatly 
the chasm between the two Russian 
armies. This done, the French 
emperor continued his head-quarters 
at Wilna, where he staid three 
weeks, preparing for fresh opera- 
tions, recruiting losses, and direct- 
ing another of his favourite mea- ', 
sures, the organization of a confe- 
deracy of ihe whole kingdom of 
Poland. Mean while, the Austrian j 
corps under Prince Schwarzcnbcrg, I 
crossed the ling, and joined the 
French army at Pinsk. On the ! 
No. XLV. Vol. VIII. 



17th Bonaparte h f t Wilna, and 
joined his troops on the Dwina, 
who, it appears unquestionable, had, 
in his absence, met with two consi- 
derable checks ; one on Ihe I 1th, 
12th, and 15th of July, on which 
days tlwy had been repulsed with 
great loss in several obstinate at- 
tacks on ihe bridge-heads before 
Dunaburg ; and another on the J.oib, 
when the Russians crossed the river, 
surprised General Sebastiani, cut 
up two regiments, and returned 
with some hundreds of prisoners. 
A third and more severe loss was 
inflicted on the southern army of 
the French by lite Hetman Piatow, 
who, with 6 or 7000 Cossacks, form- 
ed the rear guard of Prince Bagra- 
thion, and was overtaken by ihe 
French General Rozniccki, on the 
10[h, at Romanoff; but Piatow 
turned front, and sorely chastised 
his pursuers. According to the 
Russian official accounts, corre- 
sponding, in point of fact, with the 
bulletins, the French were com- 
pletely defeated, one regiment of 
horse rangers entirely destroyed, 
and some hundreds of prisoners 
taken. After this, Bagrathion seems 
to have remained unmolested till the 
21st of July, when, by the French 
bulletins, we find him advancing 
upon Mohilow, Piatow then forming 
his advanced guard. A fourth se- 
vere affair occurred, and a loss 
which the mysterious and shy lan- 
guage of the 8th bulletin is unable 
io gloss over, but of which we have 
no official Russian accounts. It 
appears probable, that this action 
ensured to Bagrathion the road to 
join the first army, which, in order 
to facilitate the important event, 
left its entrenched camp at Drizz t, 
and marched up along the Dwiaa, 
A A 



m 



RETROSPECT OF POLITICS. 



to Witcpsk, ■where the Russian 
head - quarters were last (25th of 
July). Accounts from Riga, of a 
demi-official nature, announce the 
actual junction of the two great ar- 
mies, at the same time that they 
inform us of the burning of the 
suburbs of that city, by order of its 
governor, General Essen, who ex- 
pected the advance of a corps under 
Macdonald, and was determined to 
defend his fortress to the last extre- 
mity. All accounts likewise agree, 
that the Emperor Alexander is re- 
solved to risk every thing rather 
than compromise matters with his 
antagonist ; and it appears that the 
enthusiasm of the nobles and great 
cities in their country's cause, is 
raised to the highest pitch. Their 
voluntary contributions are im- 
mense ; and the number of men 
they have engaged to raise may be 
judged of by the single offer of 
Moscow, to furnish, appoint, and 
maintain an army of 80,000 men. 
To second, probably, such patriotic 
effusions, and to urge more vigor- 
ous preparations, Alexander has left 
the first army under the command 
of General Barclaj' de Toll}'', and 
set out for Moscow. 

On surveying the events above re- 
cited, which can be vouched by 
bulletins, we are warranted in assert- 
ing, that where any fighting has 
yet occurred, the French have met 
not only with determined opposi- 
tion, but invariably with defeat : 
and that although the untoward se- 
paration of Bagrathion's army has 
been the cause of disconcerting the 
arrangements of the Russian plan of 
operations, and of a whole month's 
loss of time; yet, that, subsequently 
to that occurrence, much tactical 
skill and system have been exerted, 



to remedy the first error; so that 
if the junction has actually taken 
place as stated, and Alexander will 
persevere in his opposition, we have 
every reason to hope for satisfactory 
results, especially as the peace be- 
tween the Porte and Russia can 
scarcely any longer be questioned, 
and as it appears certain that a 
Swedish army will soon cross the 
Baltic, in order to operate a pow- 
erful diversion in Bonaparte's rear. 
The embarkation of the troops is 
completed in the ports of Sweden ; 
and, although the sailing has been 
suspended, owing, as it is stated, 
to some important negociations be- 
tween our envoy, Mr. Thornton, 
and the court of Copenhagen, which 
had anxiously requested his attend- 
ance, we make no doubt that in 
our next report we shall have to 
announce active proceedings on 
the part of Sweden, assisted, per- 
haps, by the co-operation of Den- 
mark. Peace was signed by Mr. 
Thornton both with Sweden and 
Russia on the 18lh July ; and the 
latter power has also entered into 
treaties with Portugal and the pre- 
sent Spanish government, acknow- 
ledging Ferdinand VII. as lawful 
King of Spain. Lord Cathcart has 
set out for Russia, and by this time 
arrived in the capacity of British 
minister to the court of St. Peters- 
burg. The Russian fleet taken by 
Great Britain in the Tagus will, 
according to the capitulation then 
entered into, now be restored to that 
power. 

UNITED STATES, AMERICA. 

In our last report we stated that 
the House of Representatives had 
voted for war with England. The 
Senate, after thirteen days' delibe- 
ration, concurred in the same vote. 



FASHIONS FOH LADIES. 



175 



Accordingly, war was declared on 
the 18th June last. The President's 
message to both houses, dated 1st 
June, now published, contains the 
grounds on which America thought 
herself justified in unsheathing the 
sword. As, however, the orders 
in council constitute one of the prin- 
cipal grievances enumerated in that 
document, a hope is still left, that 
the recent rescission of those orders 
on the part of our government, 
mentioned in our last, will be the 
means of accommodating the dis- 
pute between the two nations. On 
the part of America hostilities may 
be said to have actually commenced. 
A running fight took place, on the 
23d of June, oft' Sandy Hook, in 
the American seas, between our 
frigate the Belvidere, Capt. Byron, 
and five American ships of war, 
three frigates and two sloops, who, 
as soon as they came within point- 
blank shot, without the least pro- 
vocation or even previous commu- 
nication, immediately commenced 
firing upon our frigate. The Bel- 
videre, of course, made all sail 
to avoid so superior a force, going 
right before the wind, and only re- 
turning the fire from four stern 
guns. Thus keeping off her pur- 



suers, she arrived at Halifax, with 
two men killed and seven wounded. 
The British government, since hear- 
ing of the declaration of war, has 
resorted, hitherto, to none but the 
most temperate and conciliatory 
measures: in justice, however, to 
themselves and the country at large, 
an order has been issued for detain- 
ing and bringing in all American 
vessels, except such assiiall be found 
with British licences; and direc- 
tions have been given for the sailing 
of a squadron of ships of war under 
the command of Sir John Warren. 

NAVAL OCCURRENCES. 

Our gazettes have furnished us 
with the details of several gallant 
enterprizes of the Pilot and Thames 
frigates on the Italian coast, and of 
the Leviathan's cutting sixteen 
ships out of the port of Langnillia. 
But the length of our important 
foreign articles prevents us from en- 
tering into the particulars. 

DOMESTIC INTELLIGENCE. 

Under this IjOfiJ , likewise, the 
cause just mentioned enjoins laconic 
brevity. The disturbed counties 
assume a more quiet aspect. — Par- 
liament, after a long and important 
session, was, on the 30th July, pro- 
rogued to the 2d of October next. 



FASHIONS FOR LADIES. 



PLATE 18. EVENING DRESS. 

A white crape robe, with derai- 
train, and long full sleeves, ga- 
thered at regular distances, and 



the bottom with lace or stiver 
ribbon. Hair confined in the 
Eastern style, and ornamented with 
a wreath of variegated flowers. 
ornamented with simple bows of jj Necklace and cross of blended 
ribbon : bosom and back formed | pearl, and amber car - rings en 
very low; the former ornamented write. Roman slippers of white 
with gold or Chinese silk trimming, ; satin, with gold clasps; fan of white 
and united with gold buckles on the and gold crape, or carved ivory, 
right side. The robe is worn over , An occasional Grecian scarf of 
a white satin slip, and trimmed at ' white lace. 

A a 2 



176 



TWENTr-FIFTH LETTER FROM A YOUNG LADY. 



PLATE 19. — WALKING DRESS. 

A Parisian wrapping dress of 
plain jaconot muslin, or fine cam- 
bric, trimmed on each side, round 
the neck and wrists, with double 
borders of fine mull muslin. The 
sleeves very full, confined at the 
wrist with gold bracelets and drop 
snap. A Wellington hat, composed 
of blended straw and white satin; 
confined under the chin with white 
ribbon, and decorated with a wreath 



of flowers round the crown. A 
small lace cap beneath, with a flower 
on the right side. A small pelerine 
of blue satin, trimmed with broad 
black lace. A long sash, or bracer, 
of blue figured ribbon, passed over 
the shoulders, and tied in front of 
the waist. Roman shoe of buff-co- 
loured kid or jean — gloves the same 
colour. Parasol of blue shot silk, 
with deep Chinese fringe. 



TWENTY -FIFTH LETTER FROM A YOUNG LADY IN 
LONDON TO HER SISTER IN THE COUNTRY. 



I had not imagined, dear Con- j 
stance, when I last addressed you, ! 
that you would have received ano- j 
ther letter from me with the post- 
mark of our metropolis. The fact, 
is, that we have been paying a visit I 
of a fortnight at a beautiful villa of; 
our host's, not many miles from j 
Town ; and returned here about a i 
week since, in order to be present at I 
a ball or two given by a few remain- I 
ing fashionables, in honour of Lord 
Wellington's late glorious victory. 
We shall remain a few days longer, 
for the purpose of recruiting our 
wardrobe, and to equip ourselves for 
the autumn, which we purpose 
passing by the sea-side. I shall 
now therefore give up a little time to 
you, dear sister, in order to inform 
and instruct you in the above im- 
portant particulars, while on thespot 
where pleasure still holds her court, 
and Fash ion boasts her votaries. And 
so you really danced the last new 
strathspey with the new member at 
your quarterly assembly, and thus 
brought down upon yourself a host 
of provincial enviers ? I recom- 
mend to these a composing draught, 
or the fresh provocation I am about 



to subjoin may increase their disor- 
der bej'ond a cure. 

I have commanded your pelisse 
for the autumn to be formed of satin, 
it being an article much more in 
fashionable request, at this period, 
than sarsnet, both for pelisses and 
spencers. The construction of the 
former habiliment is somewhat vary- 
ing: some are formed in simple 
wraps; others meet in front, and 
are united with silk frogs, and trim- 
med with fringe or Spanish binding : 
military fronts are still fashionable. 
The collar is exceedingly narrow, 
and edged with lace; and many 
wear the spencer without any collar, 
substituting a fall of fine thread lace. 
The small round satin tippet, trim- 
med with deep black lace ; t he short 
t'ancy cloak of the same, trimmed 
with while lace, of a much narrower 
width ; the Merino scarf of silk, 
flowing in loose drapery from the 
shoulders, are all admitted in the 
out-door costume. Fancy hats and 
bonnets of blended satin and crape, 
ornamented with small curled ostrich 
feathers, are seen to mingle with the 
slouch straw and Spanish hat of 
white chip; and the large gipsey has 




m s' 




;hges§ 



v 




. 






TWENTY-FIFTH LETTISH FflOM A YOUNG LADY. 



177 



been lately reintroduced by a few of 
our first-rates: (hey are ornament- 
ed wit!) a small wreath of flowers, 
or ribbon, puffed round the crown, 
and terminated with a loose bow and 
ends on one side. Dress robes are 
formed of crape, sarsnet, or other 
light articles. With the former, as 
well as with the white muslin dress, 
the coloured satin bodice is much 
worn, and is a very animated relief. 
The Wellington robe is now in high 
vogue, as an evening dress: it is 
constructed somewhat in the style of 
the Turkish robe, but with short 
sleeves, of the Spanish slash form ; 
and instead of flowing loose from the 
shoulders, meets at the bottom of the 
waist, v.here it is confined with a 
rich mosaic clasp ; and from thence 
i.s continued in rounded draperies 
to the feet. The train of this very 
graceful garment is somewhat be- 
yond the demi length. If compos- 
ed of crape, or any li^ht article, 
it is trimmed, at its several termi- 
nations, with a chevaux - de - frise 
border, composed of double folds of 
alternate satin and crape; but if 
composed of a more substantial ma- 
terial (such as satin, sarsnet, or lus- 
tre), the trimming is cither silver, 
or silk fringe, ora border of feathers, 
or matted crape. I must not forget 
to observe that the chcxaux-dc- frise 
trimming is the most fashionable de- 
coration at this moment for every 
sort of evening or dress robe ; it has 
a* most pleasing effect, when formed 
(as I have often seen it) of two co- 
lours, happily and tastefully con- 
trasted. The Salamanca jacket iml 
petticoat, of white or coloured mus- 



lin, is a striking and appropriate 
novelty in morning dress : it islaced 
in front of tin? waist) and along the 
sleeve, from the shoulder to the 
wrist, and sits quite close to the arm: 
it is cut very low in the back and 
shoulders ; and is worn with a white 
lace, or muslin shirt, the collar sil- 
ting high, and trimmed with double 
plaitings of net. The long sash and 
bracer are again revived, and are 
not (as I think they ought to be) 
confined w holly totheeveningor full 
dress; on the contrary, the long 
sash is frequently seen as an appen- 
dage to the morning costume. Fca- 
(hers are on the decline, as to gene- 
ral adoption ; and except a few short 
ostrich, which decorate the Spanish 
evening hat, they are confined to 
t he h isrhest order of fidl d ress. Flow- 
ers, rosettes of lace, and full bows 
of ribbon, are equally fashionable, 
for decorating the lace cap or hair, 
and at thisscason of the year are con- 
sidered more genteel than gems, to 
which they give place only on par- 
ticular occasions. The satin or silk 
half-boot (though certainly inap- 
propriate) is partially introduced 
in evening and dress parties: those 
of jean and kid are invariably worn 
with the morning and walking dress; 
as are the Roman shoes and slipper 
in the higher order of costume. The 
most fashionable colours are jon- 
quille, pink, silver grey, lilac, and 
primrose. 

Farewell, dear sister! Having 

done my possibles for you, i hasten 

to repeal how sincerely I remain 

your affectionate friend and relative, 

Belinda, 



178 



Plate 17.— FASHIONABLE FURNITURE. 



Our engraving this month repre- 
sents an elegant drawing-room win- 
dow-curtain, cornices, &c. com- 
plete, beautifully ornamented with 
French fringe, and extra muslin 
curtains, under the blue damask ; 



a Grecian sofa and stool en suite, 
with a patent pedestal lamp ; the 
whole of which are not less dis- 
tinguished for their grandeur, than 
for simplicity and elegance. 



a iBJ B Hmim at 



MEDICAL REPORT. 



An account of the practice of a 
physician from the 15th of July to 
the 15th of August, 1812. 

Acute diseases. — Scarlet fever and 
sore-throat, 3.. Continued fever, 2.. 
Inflammatory sore-throat, 2... Mea- 
sles, 5. ...Small-pox, 2. ...Hooping 
cough, 1.... Enteritis, 1.... Acute 
rheumatism, 3.... Acute diseases of 
infants, 4. 

Chronic diseases. — Asthenia, 10 
..Cough and Dyspnoea, 8..Pleuro- 
dyne, 5...Hcemoptoe, 2.. .Pulmo- 
nary consumption, 5... Marasmus, 
2... Paralysis, 2... Apoplexy, 1... 
Rheumatic gout, 1... Chronic rheu- 
matism, 7... Lumbago, 2.. .Epilep- 
sy, 1 St. Vitus's dance, 1.. .Drop- 
sy, 4... Dyspepsia, 3..Gastrodynia, 
9... Colic, 1... Jaundice, 1.... Bili- 
ous vomiting, 1.... Diarrhoea, 4.... 
Worms, 2...Dysure, 2...Head-ach 
and vertigo, 6.... Cutaneous affec- 
tions, 3... Female complaints, 6. 

At this rich season of the year, 
when cheerful pursuits and enliven- 
ing scenery, assisted by fine wea- 
ther, so materially conduce to 
health, we are not to apprehend 
much serious illness. Yet there are 
complaints which depend not on 
time or season. Amongst these is 
apoplexy, of which a fatal instance 
has recently come under my imme- 



diate notice. The patient sixty 
years of age, of short stature, and 
stout make, had an attack of the 
complaint, from which he recovered, 
several years ago. On the present 
occasion he was insensible from the 
accession of the fit, and died within 
the space of a few hours. Upon 
inspecting the contents of the cra- 
nium, it was found, as expected, 
that the immediate cause of death 
was extravasation of blood in the 
brain ; but, from the appearance of 
that organ, there was little doubt 
that disease had been going on for 
a considerable time: for the texture 
of the brain in some parts was en- 
tirely changed ; the cerebral artery 
was ossified, while a large portion 
of the cerebrum itself was in a soft 
pulpy state. It seemed probable 
that the blood-vessel had given way, 
from its coats being dissolved or 
destroyed, as in ulcer or cancer. 
The disease had proceeded slowly, 
without occasioning much pain or 
uneasiness, till the last mischief 
was accomplished. 

The practical inference to be 
drawn from this case is, that there 
may be instances of apoplexy in 
which bleeding can be of no possi- 
ble service. This patient was bled 
freely from the temporal artery im- 





Che i&eposttorp 

$4 Of Arts, Literature, Commerce, Manufactures, Fashion, and Politics 
•Y Manufacturers, Factors, and Wholesale Dealers in Fancy Goods that come 
| within the scope of this Plan, are requested to send Patterns of such uew 
Articles as they come out, and if the requisites of Movelty, Fashion, aiul 
Elegance are united, the quantity necessary for'this Magazine 
will be ordered. R. Ackermann, 101, Strand, London. 



REPOSITORY OF ARTS SCIENCE XcM 



PATTERNS OF BRITISH MANUFACTURE. 



179 



mediately after the fit, but, of course, 
without any beneficial consequence: 
for in such a condition of the brain, 
it was impossible that any evacua- 
tion could be useful ; and swallow- 
ing medicine or cordials was out of 
the question, and would have been 
unavailing had it been practicable. 
The only chance was in prevention ; 
the first attack was a sufficient warn- 
ing, and was probably nearly co- 
eval with the commencement of the 
final disease. Then was the time 
to attempt, not merely present re- 
lief, but security against future 



attacks. Affections of the head, in 
whatever shape they occur, whether 
denoted by a fit, paralysis, lethar- 
gy, pain, giddiness, or altered pow- 
er of vision, should demand the 
most vigilant attention. If medi- 
cine fail to remove these symptoms, 
the patient should not rest satisfied 
till he has effected such a change in 
his habit and system, as may assure 
him a vigorous condition of body, 
without engendering plethora on the 
one hand, or too great attenuation 
on the other. In short, he should 
put himself into training. 



AGRICULTURAL REPORT. 



The dry warm weather through 
nearly the whole of last month, has 
brought the corn to the most ma- 
ture state. The greater part has 
been well harvested, and the yield 
of every description promises to be 
great. 

Wheat has gathered remarkably 
heavy in the hand, in consequence 
of the cars being large and well 
filled, most of the clevcls contain- 
ing from four to five full grown 
corns. No harvest preceded by so 
much dark, wet, and cold weather, 
is recollected to have been so free 
from blight. 

Barley promises to be more than 
an average crop. The quality is 
much finer than was expected from 
the great bulk of straw, and the pre- 
ceding heavy rain. 

Oats are of good quality, and 



promise an abundant yield. Few 
harvests are remembered where the 
straw and corn have been equally 
great. 

Beans, peas, and the whole of 
the leguminous tribe, from the 
length of pod and plumpness of 
corn, will be more than an average 
crop. The pod or kid contains 
fewer abortive umbilical cords than 
can be recollected for many years. 

The turnip crop is extremely fine, 
and the after-grass most abundant. 
These, with the old stores on the 
pastures, promise a large supply of 
cattle food for the ensuing winter. 

The cabbage and all the brassica 
tribe arc very fine, and free from 
the caterpillar. 

The hops arc greatly improved; 
and the apples in the cyder counties 
are a full average crop. 



ALLEGORICAL WOOD-CUT, WITH PATTERNS OF BRITISH 

MANUFACTURE. 



No. 1. A celestial blue imperial 
striped sarsnet, adapted for pelisses, 
spencers, evening robes, and mantles. 



Silk fringe of the same colour, mat- 
ted crape, Spanish binding, and 
thread lace, or net, are the only 



IS(f 



POETRY. 



appropriate trimmings tor articles 
of this delicate and pliant material. 
It is sold by Messrs. George and 
Bradley, mercers, No. 19, Holy- 
well-street, Strand. 

No, 2. A sea-weed ground print- 
ed cambric, so evidently calculated 
for the humble order of morning 
and domestic wear, that no further 
remark is necessary, than to recom- 
mend robes of this article to be 
made high in the neck, with long 
sleeves, and frills or collars of lace 
or needle-work. We are furnished 
with this print from the house of 
Harris and Co. No. 1, Pickct-st. 
Temple-Bar. 

No. 3. A beautiful fancy silver 
paper for ladies' work-tables, boxes, 
card-racks, &c. When made up, 
it exhibits the appearance of the 



red sea- weed, strained on a white 
satin or silver ground. Work- 
tables, with ebony and gold frames 
and feet, or japanned to that effect, 
are a most unique, elegant, and use- 
ful article for the boudoir. For 
card or work-boxes the narrow em- 
bossed gold or silver border is an 
appropriate finish at the edges. 
This simple and tasteful article is 
from Ackermann's, 101, Strand. 

No. 4. A striped Scotch jaconot 
muslin, designed for the morning 
dress and children's wear. Lace, 
or borders of double or plaited 
muslin, are the only becoming and 
consistent trimmings for robes of 
this article. It is sold by Charles 
Cooper and Co. No. 47, Fleet- 
street. 



l)oetr?n 



JAMAICA. 

A FRAGMENT.. 

j3j/ the late Bryan Edwards, Esq. 

[Concluded from p. 120.) 
Exhausted thus whilst nature languid 

droops, 
Me too, reclin'd amid the coco grove, 
Or where Banana interwoven spreads 
Her verdant canopy, let gentle sleep 
Envelop, 'till the sultry hours are past. 
The sportive zephyrs, whisp'ring o'er my 

head, 
Shall winnow with light wings the peopled 

air, 
And softly soothe my slumbers — undis- 
mayed, 
I court th' oblivious power. Ill-fated he, 
The heedless wanderer on Asia's plains, 
Whom treach'rous sleep o'ertakes. Him, 

from her lair, 
Marks the fell panther : as aghast he 

wakes. 



On his scar'd visage full her flaming eyes 
Are fix'd, while from her hollow breast 

she heaves, 
Horrid and dreadful, the fate - boding 

sigh ! 
Nail'd by the fascinating glare, his limbs 
Forget their functions, and supine he dies ! 

Far happier we, who, fene'd by 
ocean, sleep 
Secure in soft serenity, and wake, 
As now, to gladness; for the heav'ns re- 
lent. 
See, amild temp'ring haze diffusive shades 
The bright cerulean, as the radiant god 
Impetuous hastens to th' Atlantic wave: 
Yet, sinking, he dilates, and in his strength 
Still glories. O'er the abdicated skies 
Now gaily spread ten thousand golden 

forms 
And gorgeous phantoms, empyrean flame 
And worlds of tire. So, momentary glares 
Thy gilded reign, Ambition ; and as night 



i 



< 











POETIIY. 



181 



Thus comes abrupt, Oblivion spreads her 

veil, 
Shades thy proud triumphs, and shuts out 

the scene! 
O ye soft gales, who in the train of 

night 
Your down) pinions wave, who all the 

day 
Repose amid the mountains' cool retreats, 
Your course delay not ! The diurnal 

breeze 
Now slumbers on the tranquil wave ex- 
haust : 
Fan the still air, ye gales ; with balmy 

breath 
Inspire th' enliven'd functions ! — Now on 

high 
Refulgent Venus and the starry train 
Spangle the vis id hemisphere. Around, 
Myriads of insect-meteors*, living lamps, 
People the glitt'ring air ! A fairy world 
I tread, a land cf genii ! Airy shapes, 
Oft visible to contemplation's eye, 
Roam in the midnight hour these sacred 

shades ; 
Nor unobserv'd while now the starry train 
Burn with diminish'd lustre; for, behold. 
The radiant moon bids meaner glories 

fade: 
No cloud her course obscures, and high 

she tow'rs, 
Guiding in awful majesty thro' heav'n 
Her silver car, triumphant o'er the dark. 

Sure 'tis illusion and enchantment all! 
Yet still fond fancy, thro' the shadowy 

glade, 
Sees visionary fleeting forms; still hears 
Sounds more than human. Once a sren- 

o 

tie race 

* These are the fire-flics, which abound in 
the interior parts of the country, and to a 
stranger havca wonderful and singular appear- 
ance. They consist of different species, some 
of which emit a light, resembling a spark of 
fire, from a globular proniinenre near each 
eye j and others from their sides, in the act 
of respiration. They are far more luminous 
than the glow-worm, and fill the air on all 
sides, like so many living stars, to the asto- 
nishment and tenor of a traveller unaccustom- 
ed to the country. In the day-time they dis- 
appear. 

No. XLV. Vol. VIII. 



Own'd these fair vallies: from the birth 

of time 
These groves, these mountains, and these 

hills were theirs. 
Perhaps ev'n now their sp'rits delighted 

haunt 
Their once lov'd mansions. Oft the pen- 
sive Muse 
Recalls, in tender thought, the mournful 

scene 
When the brave Incotel, from yonder 

rock, 
His last sad blessing to a weeping train 
Dying bequeathed. " The hour (he said) 

arrives, 
By ancient sages to our sires foretold ! — 
Fierce from the deep, with heav'n's own 

lightning arm'd, 
The pallid nation comes ! Blood marks" 

their steps; 
Man's agonies their sport, and man their 

prey ! 
" What piercing shrieks still vibrate 

on the ear ! 
Th' expiring mother lifts her feeble arm 
In vain to shield her infant ; the hot steel 
Smokes with their mingled blood ; and 

blooming youth, 
And manly strength, and virgin beauty, 

meet 
Alike th' untimely grave; ' till fell re- 
venge 
Is cloy'd and tir'd with slaughter. See, 

full-gorg'd, 
The vulture sickens o'er his waste of prey, 
And, surfeit-swell'd, the reeking hound 

expires ! 
" Yet pause not, Spaniard ! whet thy 

blunted steel; 
Take thy full pastime in the field of blood ! 
But know, stern tyrant, retribution's hour, 
Ere long, shall reach thee. Tho' his 

once-lov'd isle, 
For crimes yet unaton'd, dread Zemi thus 
To desolation and to death consigns, 
And thou the instrument of wrath divine ; 
In yonder orb, now darken'd in his course, 
Read thy own doom, more dreadful ! 

With the slain, 
The murtherer falls ! th' oppressor and 

th' oppressed 

Bi 



182 



POETRY. 



Mingle in dust together ! Where are now 
Thy blood- polluted glories ? Ah ! too late, 
Learn, when avenging Heav'n presump- 
tuous guilt 
Gives to its own fell purposes a prey, 
More mark'd its fate, more terrible its fall ! 

"So perish the false triumphs and vain 
hopes 
Of mad ambition, and remorseless pride, 
That make weak man the murtherer of 

man ! 
O my associates, dry those scalding tears ! 
One little moment, and we shall arrive 
At those bless'd islands, where, from guilt 

refin'd 
By sharp affliction, we no more shall feel 
Death's torpid grasp, and agonizing pang! 
There, with our lov'd forefathers, shall 

we rove 
Thro' palmy shades; in limpid fountains 

bathe ; 
"Repose in jasmin bow'rs at sultry noon ; 
And when cool ev'ning tempers soft the 

air, 
Unenvied gather, from his unprun'd 

bough, 
The fragrant guoy va. On our cheeks no 

more 
The burning tear shall linger ; not a sigh 
Swell the light bosom ; but immortal joy 
Fill every thought, and brighten every 

eye. 
Meantime, those happy interdicted shores 
Our blood-stain'd foes thall seek — but 

seek in vain. 
The hurricane shall rave, the thunder 

roll, 
And ocean whelm them in his deepest tide, 
Or leave transfix'd on the hard pointed 

rock, 
The sport of howling winds. How shall 

we laugh 
When the pale coward slaves to us remote, 
Present th' uplifted hand, th' imploring 

eye! 
Their conscious groans shall feed our 

great revenge, 
— But, ah ! no woes can punish crimes 
like theirs!" 



SONG. 

FROM THE IRISH. 
In the year 1691, the memorable siege of Li- 
merick was terminated by its surrender to 
the arm j of William 111. Though the terms 
of the capitulation were the most favourable 
that a conquered people could expect, the 
greater number resolved to take advantage 
of an article in the treaty, which permitted 
their emigration - y and, accordingly, the flow- 
er of the Irish garrison embarked for foreign 
countries. In getting under weigh, their. 
vessels were greeted from the shore by a 
crowd of females, who joined in a song of 
gratitude for the bravery of their defenders, 
and grief for their own and their country's 
loss in their departure. 

Behold the crowded barks that bear 
The pride of Erin from her shore ! 
Hark ! their voice salutes the ear, 
Farewell — farewell for ever more ! 
Farewell ! 
A fresher breeze impels each sail, 

Swifter they cut the yielding wave, 
Till distance, and the rising gale, 

Have drown'd the voices of the brave — 
Farewell ! 
Lost are their forms, and from our eyes 
Their lessening vessels sweep afong: 
Now let the voice of sadness rise — 

Now strike the harp to sorrow's song — 
Farewell ! 
But vain expression's plaintive powers, 
Our weeping country's woes to tell ; 
Yet not with yonder humbled towers 
Her pride, her strength, her glory fell— 
Farewell ! 
No, then her glory own'd no stain; 
Her pride, her strength, then shone 
as high ; 
They bow'd — a conquest to obtain, 
And chang'd defeat to victory — 

Farewell ! 
But now is faded all her fame, 

Lost are the triumphs she has won ; 

Torn are the trophies from her name ; 

The sons she gloried in are gone — 

Farewell ! 

Gone from their native vallies far, 

To combat on some foreign plain ; 
Lead Gaul's thick squadrons to the war, 
Give valour to the hosts of Spain — 
Faiewell ! 
Yes, now she falls — no guarded hand 

Her prostrate form from earth to raise ; 
And Erin, lost, deserted land, 
Has bid the brightest of her days 

Farewell ! 

z.x. 

Tyrone, 1812. 



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184 

METEOROLOGICAL JOURNAL for July, 1812. 
Conducted, at Manchester, by Thomas Hanson, Esq. 



181-2. 


Wind. 


Pressure 




Temperature. 


Weather. 




Rain 


JULY 


Max. j Min. | 


Mean. 


Max. \ 


Min. 1 Mean. ' 


Evap. 

i 


1 l 


VV i 


29,69 1 29,25 


29,470 


68,0" 


52,0^ 60,00° 


rainy 


1 





2 


W l 


29,3". 29, 22 


29,260 


71,0 


50,0 


bo, 50 


cloudy 


— 




3 


W l 


29,95 


2y,30 


29,625 


64,0 


48,0 


50,00 


fine 


.265 


1 005 


4 


VV 1 


3o,15 


30,05 


so,; 00 


67,0 


40,0 


53,50 


cloudy 






5 


S i 


30,05 


29,90 


29,975 


66,0 


50,0 


58,00 


rainy 




— 


6 


S 1 


30,3! 


30,05 


3'i,180 


66,0 


5>!,0 


59,50 


gloomy 






7 


S i 


30,4/ 


30,31 


30,390 


74,5 


48,0 


6 1,25 


fine 






• 8 


Calm 


30,57 


30,47 


30,530 


74,0 


55,0 


04,50 


brilliant 






9 


S l 


30,00 


30,57 


30,585 


74,0 


56,0 


05,00 


brilliant 


.550 


.210 


10 


Var. l 


30,59 


30,57 


30,580 


72,o 


56,0 


64,00 


gloomy 






U 


S 2 


30,59 


30,27 


30,430 


71,0 


52,0 


61,50 


cloudy 






12 


S l 


30,27 


30,27 


30,270 


6s,o 


52,0 


58,50 


gloomy 






13 


S 2 


30,27 


30,20 


30,235 


69,0 


50,0 


59,50 


cloudy 


— 




14 


S l 


30,27 


30,25 


30,260 


71,0 


48,0 


59,50 


fi:ie 


— 




13 


S l 


30,25 


30,15 


30,200 


73,0 


44,0 


53,50 


brilliant 


— 




<i 1G 


S l 


30,15 


29,90 


30,025 


71,0 


56,0 


63,50 


cloudy 


— 




17 


S 2 


30,20 


29,90 


30,050 


73,o 


56,0 


64,50 


brilliant 


— 




18 


S 2 


30,20 


30,00 


30 100 


70,0 


57,0 


63,50 


gloomy 


— 




19 


S l 


30,00 


29,55 


29,775 


73,0 


5S,o 


65,50 


rainy 


— 


— 


20 


S 1 


29,50 


29,60 


29,550 


i 64,0 


52,0 


58,00 


rainy 


1,015 


1,950 


21 


S 2 


29,90 


29,60 


29,750 


64,0 


48,0 


56,50 


fine 


— 




22 


Var. l 


30,10 


29,90 


30,000 


60,0 


4l>,0 


53,00 


rainy 


.200 


.630 


23 


Var. 1 


30,10 


29,90 


30,000 


68,0 


43,0 


55,50 


clear 


— 




24 


S l 


29,90 


29,40 


29,050 


1 66,0 


55,0 


60,50 


rainy 


— 


— 


25 


S W a 


29,45 


29,35 


29,400 


68,0 


55,0 


61,50 


rainy 


— 


— 


26 


W 4 


29,55 


29,35 


29,450 


74,0 


50,0 


62,00 


clear 


.210 


.630 


27 


W 2 


29,55 


29,35 


29,450 


i 69,0 


49,0 


59,00 


clear 


— 




23 


S 1 


29,35 


29,3 5 


29,350 


1 66,0 


48,0 


57,00 


cloudy 


— 




29 


S 1 


29,55 


29,35 


29,450 


66,0 


47,0 


56,50 


fine 


— 


— 


1> 30 


W 2 


29,93 


29,55 


29,740 


65,0 


51,0 


58,00 


rainy 


— 


— 


31 


S 1 


29,93 


29,80 


29,855 


68,0 

! 


46,0 


57,00 


brilliant 


.550 


.170 


Mean 


29,925 


Mean 


'59,75 




1 2,790 


4,595 



RESULTS. 

Mean barometrical pressure, 29925 — maximum, 30. 60, wind S. l — minimum, 2922, wind. 

VV. 1 — Range 1.3S incb. 

Tbe greatest variation of pressure in 24 hours, is .60 of an incb, which was on the 3d. 

Mean temperature, 59°.75. --Maximum, 74 wind S. 1 — Minimum 40° wind VV 1— Range 37. 

The greatest variation of temperature in 24 hours is 29°, which was on the 15th. 

Spaces described by the barometer, 6,80 inches — Number of changes, 13. 

Quantity of water evaporated from a surface of water, exposed to the action of the sun's rays 

and wind, 2-790 inches. 
Rain, &c. this month, 4. 595 inches. — Number of wet days, 10 — Total rain this year, 26.950 in. 

WIND. 
N NE E SE S SVV W NVV Variable. Calm. 

0000 20 37 1 3 

Brisk winds — Boisterous ones 1. 



Prices of Fire-Office, Mine, Dock 
and Public Institution Shares, 



, Canal, Water-Works, Brewery 
Sfc. Sfc. for August, 1812. 



Rock Life Assurance 

Provident 

Albion Fire and Life 

Globe 

Imperial Fire 

Sun 

London Dock 

Chelsea Water- Works 

Kent Ditto 

West Middlesex Ditto . 

Ashby de la Zouch Canal 

WOLFE & Co. 9, 'Change -Alley, Cornlull, 



7s. a 10s. pm. per. sh. 
2. 10. do. do 
£500. sh. £48 per. sh. 
108 los. do. 
50 do. 2 10s. pm. 

£160 a l6l|pr.sh. 
108 pr. cent. 

14 losper share. 
63 do. 

45 do. 

21 do. 



Birmingham Canal 
Coventry Ditto 
Dudley Ditto 

Grand Junction Ditto 
Monmouthshire Ditto 
Grand Trunk 
London Institution 
Surry Ditto 
Russell Ditto 
Day Newspaper 
Gas Light Company 



£585 a-591 pr sh. 
807 a 808 lOs.do. 
50 a 51 do. 
215 do. 

1 05 a 1 06 do. 
1075 do. 

50 10s. do. 
15 de. 

18 gs. do. 
88. a 10s. pm. 
15s. do. 



FORTUNE & Co. 13, Cornhill- 



J 85 
METEOROLOGICAL TABLE for July, 1812. 

Conducted by Mr. J. Gibson, Laboratory, Stratford, Essex. 



18 12 


Wind. - 

s w 


Pressure. 


Temperature. 


Weather. 


Evap. 


Rain. 




.1 L LY 

J> l 


Max. 


Win. ; 


Mean. 1 


Max. | 


Min. \Mean. 




99,80 


99,57 


29,085 ' 


65" 


54« 


59,5« 


showery 


_ j 


.28 




a 


N W 


89,66 


29,55 


99,605 


70 


SO 


60,0 


showery 


— 


.38 




3 


N 


30,00 


99,66 


29,830 


65 


41 


53,0 


line 


— 






4 


N 


30,0/ 


30,00 | 


30,035 


bb 


44 


55,0 


fine 


.45 






5 


s\v 


30,00 


30,05 


30 ,05 5 


07 


53 


60,0 


clouds 


— | 







6 


N \V 


30,97 


30,06 


30,165 


71 


49 


60,0 


fine 


— 






7 


N 


30,99 


30,97 


30,28 


76 


50 


()3,0 


fine 


.43 






♦ B 


E 


30,33 


30,9g 


30,310 


78 


48 


63,0 


fine 








9 


N E 


30,33 


36,99 


30,.ilo 


81 


52 


bb,5 


tine 








10 


N 


30,39 


30,99 


30,340 


75 


51 


63,0 


fine 








I 1 


N 


30,99 


30,16 


30,225 


74 


^7 


65,5 


fine 








19 


N \x 


30,17 


30,1b 


30,165 


bS 


4 2 


55,0 


cloudy 








1:) 


NW 


30,19 


30,1b 


30,1/5 


72 


54 


b3,0 


cloudy 








1 I 


Var. 


30,I<) 


30,17 


3o ? l80 


74 


50 


62,0 


cloudy 




__. 




15 


Var. 


30,17 


30,05 


3",1 10 


72 


. 53 
f 57 


62,5 


fine 








17 


E 


30,05 


29,95 


30,000 


71 i 


64,0 


clouds 


— 


__ 




Var. 


30,14 


89,95 


30,045 


68 


58 


03,0 


fine 


— 






18 


S E 


30,10 


30,00 


30,050 


85 


59 


72,0 


fine 


.37 






19 


S W 


30,00 


29,74 


89,870 


7* 


bo 


67,0 


cloudy 


— 


.32 




20 


\V 


29,85 


29,70 


29,775 


75 


53 


64,0 


showery 


— 







21 


W 


29,90 


29,94 


29,950 


75 


49 


58,5 


clouds 


.35 






22 


s\v 


30,09 


29,9° 


30,095 


7<> 


45 


57,5 


clouds 


— 


.16 




23 


s w 


30,09 


29,94 


30,015 


7» 


55 


63,0 


cloudy 


— 


— 




O 24 


s\v 


20,04 


99,78 


89,860 


< - 


01 


66,5 


showery 


— 


.31 




25 


s vv 


29,79 


29,7 s 


29,735 


81 


53 


69,5 


clouds 


.55 


— 




2b 


N \V 


2fl,85 


29,79 


29.fc.iO 


72 


58 


l -',0 


line 


— 






27 


Var. 


99,66 


29,bo 


99J630 


65 


49 


57,0 


rainy 


— 


1,04 




28 


8 \V 


99,66 


29,0". 


99,655 


bS 


50 


59,0 


tine 


— 


— 




^ - 9 


W 


29,80 


89,66 


89,730 


b3 


49 


56,0 


rain 


.55 


.22 




?3o 


N W 


29,f)6 


99,80 


99,880 


67 


49 


58, 


rail- 


— 






31 


s \v 


89,96 


89,80 


99,880 


1 ' J 


53 


02,0 


clouds 


.20 


! .08 




Mi nn 


29.9s 1 


Mean 


1 6l,6 


Total 


1 2,90:n 


2,79in 





RESULTS. — Prevailing winds, westerly. — Mean height of barometer, 29,9Slinches — ther- 
mometer, 6 1,6°. — Total of evaporation (in 23 days J 9,90 inches. — Rain 2,79 inches — in 
another guage 3,05 inches. 



Notes — 1st. Rainy morning. — 2d. A shower of large hail between five and six o'clock 
P.M. with some thunder — evening showery. — 5th. Day cloudy and fine — some rain in the 
evening. — 19th. Cloudy morning. — lyth. Some rain in the evening. — 20th. Some thunder in the 
afternoon — frequent lightning in the evening. — 92(1. A heavy t bonder storm about noon, 
accompanied with large hail.— 27th. Very rainy day.— 29th. A thunder storm about three 
•'clock P. M. with heavy rain mixed with hail. 



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co s 



THE 



^eposttorp 



OF 



ARTS, LITERATURE, COMMERCE, 

Manufactures, Fashions, and Politics^ 

For OCTOBER, 1812. 
VOL. VIII. 



;tK jrortr.sivrt) j^ttntfcrr. 



EMBELLISHMENTS. 

1. View of Souo-S<ii\r.E 

2. Ladies' Piu>menaue Costume .... 

j. . Autumnal Carriage or Morning Costume 

1. Design for a Vekandau ..... 

5 &. 0. I'lGUUES for Landscapes .... 

7, Patterns for Needle-Woui; .... 

CONTENTS. 



229 

2n 

ib. 
242 
21-4. 

tin 



Conversations on the Ails, by Junhius 1S7 I 
Description of the City of Smyrna 193 I 
Eighteenth Letter from Italy . .107 
The Modern Spectator, No.'XIX. . 201 | 
Chronological Table of the principal 
Events relative to .Spam and Por- 
tugal, from 1S05 to 1812, by Ge- 
neral Sarrazin 209 

BarbitOj or Ihe Spectre of Cuenza . 21 J j 
Letter from a British Officer in Spain 221 i 
Description of Soho-Square . . . 223 
Intelligence Literary, Scientific, &c. 224 ; 
"Musical Review. — Stevenson's Six 
Canzonets — Morn and Braham's 
Operatic Romance of The Devil's 
Bridge — Fish's Hunters of the 
Alps — Buchanan's Sonata for the 
Piano-Forte — Stutz's Treatise on 
the Elements of Music — Cramer's 
Duet for the Harp and Piano- 
Forte — Kny vett's Glee, " Now in 
her green Mantle" — Corn's Ori- 
ginal System of Preluding— I an- 
sa's Scotch Airs, «' Auld Lang 
Syne," and " Ah ! sure a Pair" — 



PAGE 

Kieussfci's Fourth Set of Waltzes 

for the Piano- Forte .... 226 

Fashions for Ladies 231 

Retrospect of Politics. — Spanish Pe- 
ninsula, Anglo-Portuguese Army 
— East of Spain, Battle of Casteila 
— South of Spain, Raising of the 
Siege of Cadiz — United States of 
America — Russia and North of 
Europe— Principal French Army 
— Occurrences along the Dwina 
— Operations in the Vicinity of 
Slonim and Novogrodeck — Sue- 
den and Denmark— Mediterra- 

• nean and Sicily 232 

Design for a Verandah .... 242 

Medical Report 24i 

Agricultural Report ib. 

Figures for Landscapes . . . . 21-t 

London Markets 245 

Meteorological Table — Manchester 240 
Prices of Companies' Shares . . ib. 
Meteorological Table — London . 2 il 
Prices of Stocks 2+8 



Persons who reside abroad, and who wish to he supplied with this Work every Month as 
published, may have it sent to them, free of Postage, to New fork, Halifax, Uuebec, and 
to any Part of the West Indies, at £i l£s. prr Annum, by Mr. Thorniiim , of the General 
Post-O trice, at No. 31, Sherborne- Lane; l<> Hamburgh, Lisbon, Cadiz, Gibraltar, Ma ta, or 
any Part of the Mediterranean, at £* |9a per Annum, by Mr. SEBJBAST, of the General 
Post-Office, at No. 39, Sherborne- !ane j aud to the Cape of Good Hope, oi any part of the 
East Indies, by Mr Guy, at the East-India Hauae. The money to l>c paid at the time »' 
subscribing, for either 3, 6, 9, or 12 mouths. 



TO OUR READERS AND CORRESPONDENTS. 



We earnestly solicit communications (post paid) from the professors of the arts in 
general, as well as authors, respecting ivorks which they may have in hand. We con- 
ceive that the evident advantage which must accrue to both from the more extensive 
publicity that will be given to their productions through the medium of the Repository, 
needs only to he mentioned, to induce them to favour us with such information, which 
shall always meet with the most prompt attention. 

We are fully sensible of the importance of Mr. Gregson's observations, but the 
fear that they would oe considered very dry by the generality of our readers, has de- 
terred us from introducing them into the Repository. 

W. Henry's Letter is received. We shall endeavour to find a place for it in an 
early number. 

Belinda's communication reached us too late to be noticed in our present publi- 
cation. 

We have to claim the indulgence of our poetical correspondents, who must attri- 
bute our apparent neglect of them to the pressure of temporary matter. The Soldier'*; 
Daughter — The Translation from Anacreon — The Address delivered on the Open- 
ing of the Lowestoft Theatre, &c. &c, shall appear, if possible, in our next. 

Having been disappointed by the artist employed to engrave the wood-cut of 
Loch Katherine, we have been obliged to defer, till our next, the Description of that 
celebrated Lake and the surrounding scenery. 

We beg leave to remind such of our Readers as have imperfect sets of the Repo- 
sitory, of the necessity of an early application for the deficiencies, in order to 
prevent disappointment. Those who chuse to return their Numbers to the Publisher, 
may have them exchanged for Volumes in a variety of bindings, at the rate of Is, Gd. 
per Volume. 






THE 



3&epo6ttorp 



(IF 



ARTS, LITERATURE, COMMERCE, 

Manufactures^ Fashions ^ and Politics^ 

For OCTOBER, 1812. 



2Et)c $oxtv>5itt\) dumber* 



-The suffrage of the wise, 



The praise that's worth ambition, is attain' «] 
By sense alone, and dignity of mind. 



Arvstr-jxg. 



CONVERSATIONS ON TF5E ARTS.— By Jla-inus. 

(Continued from p. \32.) 



Miss K. Here, Miss Eve, is a 
curious frontispiece by M. Van- 
dergucht to a book entitled Hell 
opened (o Christians, to caution 
then from entering ink) it. Here ; 
is another to the comic works of 
Scarron, 1727. Here is a portrait, 
a whole length, of George Augustus J 
Prince of Wales, afterwards King 
George II.; and here is one of! 
Robert South 4 D. D. printed for 



son Benjamin, who became very 
eminent as a picture-dealer. He 
had a country residence mar the 
Thames, towards Hammersmith; 
and one day, about the year J 794, 
in crossing the river in a boat it was 
overset, and he was unfortunately 
drowned, though his body was 
soon taken out of the wafer. It is 
probable, that he chanced to fall 
into unskilful hands. People should 



E. Curl, 1717. It was about ten ! ^ct the pamphlets that are distri 



years afterwards that this Curl was 
put into the pillory at Charing- ' 
Cross ; and here is a small print.by | 
the same artist of the Westminster 
boys inflicting scholastic discipline 
On that bookseller. 

Gerard Vandergucht, who lived ; 
many years in Bloorusbury, left 
great part of his property to his ! 

No. XLVI. Vol. VII L 



buted gratis by the Humane Society, 
and inform themselves of the pro- 
per methods of restoring suspended 
animation. Old women, and such 
like, are too apt to hold up persons, 
apparently drowned, by the heels, 
with their heads downwards, to let 
the water run out, which often ex- 
tinguishes the vital spark. This is 
Cc 



1SS 



CONVERSATIONS ON THE ARTS. 



a mistake : no wafer, or very little, 
enters the body. The best method 
of treatment yet discovered is that 
recommended by the Humane So- 
ciety, who offer rewards for those 
who are of essential service in pro- 
moting the endeavours of their in- 
stitution. 

Miss Eve. Do you think, Miss 
K. that persons who are drowning 
end nre much pain ? 

Miss K. Were Ave to judge 
from the sensations that are felt from 
holding the head in a bowl or pail 
of water, it seems as if the pain 
must be very dreadful: but I have 
conversed with some who have been 
half an hour under water, and who 
say that this is by no means the 
case ; that the sensation immediate- 
ly succeeding the first confused 
apprehension is Tike going to sleep, 
and recovering like waking from 
sleep in which there was no dream. 
Persons sometimes venture after 
those who are drowning, before 
perception has departed ; the latter 
cling to them, and both perish: 
•whereas, had they waited till insen- 
sibility had taken place, they might 
have accomplished their humane 
intentions. 

Soon after tbe death of Benjamin 
Vandergucht, his noble collection of 
pictures by the best masters was sold 
by Christie in Pali-Mall, for the 
benefit of his widow. His portrait 
hung in the parlour of his sister, 
Mrs. Jane White, the print-seller, 
in Tavistock-street, who often sur- 
veyed it in tears. He was, indeed, 
much regretted by many. 

Persons when they have fallen 
into deep water should never hold 
their arms above their heads, but 
should make a motion with their 
feet and legs, as if they were walk- 
ing up stairs; by this method they 



will rise to the surface of the water. 
Fat is so little heavier than water, 
that very fat persons can lie on the 
surface and float without any mo- 
tion of their arms and legs. 

Here, Miss Eve, is a very excel- 
lent portrait, in mezzotinto, of Mr. 
Garrick, as steward of the Stratford 
Jubilee in September 176$, from a 
picture by Benjamin Vandergucht. 
It. was published June 24, 1773 y 
by J. Saunders, the engraver, at 
Mr. Deschamp's, upholder in Conip- 
ton-street. 

Miss Eve. Do you know any 
particulars of this Jubilee. 

Miss K. A History of the Eng- 
lish Stage, published in 1779, gives 
the following account of it : — In 
1769, Mr. Garrick projected a ju- 
bilee in honour of Shakspeare, for 
conducting which he was himself 
appointed steward. Stratford-upon- 
Avon, the birth-place of the poet, 
was appointed for its celebration, 
for which purpose a great booth 
was erected, which was called 
Shakspeare' s Hall, or The Amphi- 
theatre. It was an elegant room, 
of the shape, but not so large, as 
the rotunda at Ranelagh, supported 
by a colonnade of the Corinthian 
order, distant about ten feet from 
the sides, and having a chandelier 
of eight hundred lights hanging 
from the center of the roof. The 
month fixed on for this celebration 
was August, yet so unfavourable 
was the weather, that the rain for 
two successive days, which were 
assigned for this festival, prevented 
an intended pageant, a procession 
of Shakspeare r s characters, on 
which much pains and expence 
had been bestowed. The other en- 
tertainments were a masqued ball, 
the oratorio of Judith, and an ode 
on the occasion written by Rosciua 



CONVERSATIONS ON' THE AUTS. 



IS9 



himself, of which (he parts usually 
sung in recitative wen* spoken by 
him with all (he energy anil force 
which his enthusiastic love of the 
immortal bard might he supposed 
to inspire; so thai what has usual I) 
bet i) found insipid and tiresome in 
things of (his kind, became the prin- 
cipal part of the entertainment. 
The great merit of this ode was its 
being ndapled to the time, to (he 
occasion, nnd to the speaker. Mr. 
Garrick conceived a peculiar man- 
ner, which i as to accompany his elo- 
cution in different parts of tin's per- 
formance: the words were adapted 
in Iheir first conception to this man- 
ner, and to particular tones, inflec- 
tions, and emphases, of which, by 
experience, he well knew the 
power. In a word, it was acknow- 
ledged that Mr. Garrick's elocution 
was never heard will) more pleasure 
or felt with more force. 

The following winter the Jubilee, 
written by Mr. Garrick, was per- 
formed at Drury-lanc Theatre, and 
its run was beyond any thing on 
record in the annals of the stage. 
The public had discovered an un- 
common eagerness to see the mock 
procession of the coronation. The 
pageant of the Jubilee was un- 
doubtedly spawned by that raree- 
show. 

Miss E~e. You used the word 
spawned — did you ever keep (lie 
6 pawn of a frog in fresh water, or 
rather water freshened, to see how 
it turns to a loggerhead, and this 
by degrees to a little frog ? From 
this head and tail the legs gradually 
appear; at hist (he end of the tail 
comes off, and you have a perfect 
little frog. This process is extreme- 
ly curious. At my scat in Essex, 
in the midst of a large garden, is a 



small private one, of which I keep 
the key. Here, embowered by 
shady trees, is a piece of running 
water, which is always fresh, and 
so clear that the surrounding tree* 
and scenery, together with the 
sweetest and most beautiful flowers, 
are reflected in it as in the clearest, 
mirror. It has a smooth sandy 
bottom. Hither I often retire in 
hot weather, attended by a couple 
of maids, who are expert in swim- 
ming, and enjoy the cool shade, and 
the healthful, refreshing luxury of 
bathing. It reaches in the middle 
no higher upon me than between 
the rectus abdominis and pectoral is 
major. 1 first learned to swim by 
observations on a frog. I took no- 
tice how he threw his fore-legs for- 
ward, nnd drew his hind legs in and 
kicked them out again. I can also 
swim on my back with a variety of 
motions and attitudes, and f wist and 
turn myself about with such gentle 
flowing lines ! 

Miss K. This exercise, where 
it can be taken in perfect safety, is 
a very wholesome and luxurious 
indulgence, as well ;?s very useful. 
I once heard an Irishman declare 
that if he had not learned to swim, 
he should have been drowned at 
least three times in his life. 

Miss Eve. If I were overset in 
a boat in a river, such wc will sup- 
pose as the Thames, I would coolly 
consider which was the nearest 
shore, and when I was somewhat 
tired, I would turn and swim with 
my longi&simus dorsi and sacro- 
lumbal is downward. I believe I 
could sw im tor an hour by throw ing 
the labour of exertion on different 
vets of muscles at different times. 

Miss A". Here you excel y»ir 
master: we never sec a frog swim 
Cc 2 



190 



CONVERSATIONS ON THE ARTS. 



on his back ; but he is amphibious. 
Wafer animals, such as swans, 
geese, duck*, frogs, water-rats, &c, 
have their feet webbed to assist their 
swimming. When I swim I imitate 
these; for which purpose I put my 
fingers close together; I put the 
backs of my hands together with 
my thumbs downwards, then strike 
them out, bring them back again 
with the thumbs towards each other 
and the palm of the hands down- 
wards. I can swim under water like 
a duck. 

Miss Eve. Cats hate water — 
look at your Romeo climbing up a 
tree in the garden! 

Miss K. He often retires thither 
in the heat of the day for the benefit 
of the shade and cool breeze ; but 
I sometimes apprehend that he has 
worse intentions, and that he shams 
sleep though he is at the same time 
peeping after birds. 

Miss Eve. All animals will obey 
the instinct of nature : cats will bo 
cats. Men and women too will 
follow the secret bias of their cha- 
racters. There is an old saying, 
" Never entrust a reformed drunk- 
ard with the key of your wine- 
cellar." 

Miss K. Do you know, that 
though they have lived so long to- 
gether, Romeo wanted the other 
day to get at my little bird Affec- 
tionate. His eyes looketj so fierce ! 
Miss Eve. 

Let foll:s do what they may, 

The hog will grunt, ihe dog will have hir, day. 

Miss K. I forgot to observe that 
Charles White, the engraver, died 
of a fever in August 1785, aged 34, 
at his house, No. 10, Stafford-row, 
Pimlico, the same in which W. W. 
Ryland resided about fifteen years 
before that time, and where he en- 



graved the whole-length portrait of 
his Majesty from Allan Ramsay, 
and also Queen Charlotte, with the 
Princess Royal when an infant in 
her lap, from Francis Cotes. The 
latter was published by Ryland in 
1770, at Stafford-row. 

W. W. Ryland and John Boy- 
dell were both engravers and print- 
sellers, and partners in Woolleft's 
Death of General Wolfe, which 
plate was successful beyond exam- 
ple : but their fates were different ; 
Ryland suffered at Tyburn, and 
Boydell was Lord Mayor of London. 

Miss Eve. James Wolfe and 
Horatio Nelson are 'deservedly the 
favourites of their country: their 
actions are very extraordinary in- 
stances of military and naval hero- 
ism. Have you any verses written 
on General Wolfe ? 

Miss J{ % 1 have the inscription 
on his monument in Westminster 
Abbey, and his epitaph in the 
church of his native town, West- 
erham, in Kent. The first is as 
follows : — 

" To the memory of James Wolfe, 
Esq. Major-Genera! and Command- 
er in Chief of the British Land 
Forces, on an expedition against 
Quebec ; who surmounting by abi- 
lity and valour all obstacles of art 
and nature, was slain in the mo- 
ment of victory, at the head of his 
conquering troops, on the J 3th Sep- 
tember, 1759, the King and Parlia- 
ment of Great Britain dedicate this 
monument." 

At Westerham isth is inscription : 

"James, son of Colonel Edward 
Wolfe and Henrietta his wife., Mas 
bomin this parish, January^, 1727; 
died in America, Sept. 13, 1759." 

While George in sorrow hows his laurel I'd head, 
And bids the artist grace the soldier dead^ 



CONVERSATIONS ON THF. A UTS. 



J91 



We raise no sculptured trophy !o thy name, 
Brave youth, the fairest in the Hit of Fame 
I'ioud of thy birth, we boast tli' auspicious 

year ; 
Strock with thy fall, we ihed a general tear; 
With humble grief inscribe one art leas stone, 
Ami from thy matchless honours date oar own. 

I know the song said to have been 
Bung by General Wolfe, the night 
before the battle in which he lost 
liis life. 

Miss Eve. Will you repeat it ? 

Miss K. I will sing it. 

How stands the glass around ? 

For shame you take no care, my boys ! 
How stands the glass around ? 

Let wine and mirth abound, 
The trumpets sound, 

The colours they are (lying, boys; 
To tight, kill, or wound, 

May we be found 
Content with our hard fate, my boys, 

On the cold ground. 

Why, soldiers, why 

Should we be melancholy, boys? 
Why, soldiers, why, 

Whose bus'uess 'tis to die ? 
What! sighing ! fie! 

Hang care, drink round, be merry, boys ! 
'Tis he, yon, or 1, 

Cold, hot, wet, or dry, 
We'n' always bonnd to follow, boys, 

And scorn to fly. 

Think of renown, 

Before you go to fight, my boys, 

Think of renown, 

Likewise of the British crown, 
That we may go down 

With honour to our graves, my boys; 
So iKver frown, 

But take a glass, a smiling glass, 
Of good liquor round. 

Behold this sword of mine, 

Which has stood many a cut, my boys ; 
Behold this pword ofmine, 

It does like silver shine : 
So, boys, don't decline, 

But boldly elear your way, my boys; 
So let the armies join, 

And break the enemy's line ; 
But before you go to light, my boys, 

Drink oil* your wine. 

It is but in vain, 

1 mean not lo upbraid you, boys, 
It is but in vain, 

For soldiers to complain ; 



The next campaign, 

All in the field of battle, boys, 
Perhaps we may b'- slain; 

Then we shall go to God that sent ns, boy9, 
And be fnr From pain. 

But should we remain 

After next campaign, 
A bottle and kind landlady 

Cures all again. 

Miss Eve. Where do they print 
such lar<re plates as that of the 
Dcalh of General Wolfe ? 

Miss A'. The Death of General 
Wolfe was printed at the house of 
Woollctt, the engraver, who (lien 
lived in Green-street, Leicester- 
Fields. Some of (he printers are 
apt to reserve a few prints for their 
own use. An artisi will tell a printer 
that he wishes fo have a plate print- 
ed at, his own house, that he may- 
see if lie likes the colour, and if it 

lis printed full and clear; though 
he is afraid all the time that some 

; of (he best impressions may be em- 
bezzled. Some of the best proofs 

; of this print have sold at sales for 

J upwnrds of twenty guineas. 

Miss Ere. Who have been the 
best printers ? 

Miss A*". Wessell, of Denmark- 
court, in the Strand, who is now 
deatl ; Gamble, of Denmark-street, 
St. Giles's; Mrs. Iloquet, a French- 
woman, who lived near Si. Giles's 
church ; Adricl, who is dead, and 
his apprentice, John Dixon, who 
lives near Rat hbone- place, and is 
at present the prince of printers. 

Miss Eve. Did not the king and 
Allan Ramsay wish Strange to en- 
grave the porl raits of himself and 
queen, and Lord Bute ? 

Miss A'. Yes; but Strange was 
i^oing abroad previously to the ap- 
plication. In his letter to Lord 
Bute on the Rise and Progress of 
the Royal Academy, he explains 



192 



DESCRIPTION OF THE CITY OV SMYRNA. 



his motives for rejecting the -work. 
This meritorious engraver had a 
ffreat number of enemies, who said 
of him things which he never 
thought. Because he was a Scotch- 
man, they insinuated that he was 
strongly attached to the Stuart fa- 
mily; that he used to drink the 
Pretendei's health, and wished to 
engrave his picture as king; that 
when he drank, he would say, " I 
say nothing, onlj r , may every man 
cnjoyhis rightful inheritance !" and 
such like fals-hoods. 

Miss Exe. Parties formerly ran 
high on this subject, bul their 
tongues are now silent and their 
eyes shut for ever. The partisans 
of the Stuarts used to speak and 
write in an ambiguous way, of 
which the following is an instance. 
— When the intrepid Lord Bal me- 
rino was beheaded in 1746, this 
epitaph was written on him: — ■ 

Here lies a baron bold, — take care, 
There may be treason in a tear; 
But yet my Arthur may find room 
Where greater folks don't always come. 



Miss K. His Majesty was con- 
vinced howill Strange had been used, 
how much he had been slandered ; 
and in consideration of his merit, 
conferred on him the honour of 
knighthood, January 5, 1787. His 
death happened July 5, 1792, and I 
am informed that he was buried at 
Covent- Garden, with a favourite 
daughter, whom he tenderly loved 
and much regretted. Barry says, 
that he ought to have a monument 
in Westminster Abbey, where there 
is one for Woollett. 

Miss Eve. When was Sir Robert 
Strange born, and where ? 

Miss K. It is said that lie was 
born in i\\e Island of Pomona, one 
of the Orkneys, July 21, 1721. 
There is a peculiar richness in the 
flesh of Strange's prints, which no 
other engraver in this country has 
been able to rival. 

Miss Eve. In those islands, it is 
said, th it, at this time of the year, 
people may see to read all night, 
and that it is twilight at midnight. 
Juninijs, 



DESCRIPTION OF THE CITY OF SMYRNA.* 

A sketch, however slight, of one of the seven cities which has contended for the 
privilege of being designated as the natal spot of Homer, cannot be viewed with 
indifference by any individual, who aspires to the title of a classical scholar. 
Smyrna, moreover, when regarded by the eve of commercial enterprize, is one 
of the most interesting objects discoverable among the glories of the Spicy East; 
profuse of its balm, of its odour, and of that celestial drug which quells the throb 
of anguish, allays the heat of the heart, gilds the dream of the poet, and mocks 
all the reasoning of the philosopher. Editor. 

Extract of a Letter from a Gentleman in Foggia. 
Dear Sir, ll wrote the Apocalypse, is small and 

My passage from Malta I barren, and Delphos, so celebrated 
to Smyrna was extremely pleasant; j for the beautiful temple of Apollo, 



the first land we saw was Candia 
(ancient Crete) ; we coasted along 
this, and after leaving it, passed 
successively in sight of almost all 
the islands in the Archipelago 



is scarcely any thing but a rock, 
and has few or no inhabitants upon 
it; remains of this fine temple are 
still seen on this island. These 
islands, with a few exceptions, have 



The Isle of Patmos, where St. John II a barren appearance, and perhaps 



Extracted from Bradford and Inskeep's Port-Fo Ho for June, 1811 



DESCRIPTION OF THE CITY OF SMYRNA, 



193 



their being so in reality may account 
for the warlike and restless spirit of 
the ancient Greeks who inhabited 
them. The scanty productions of 
their own soil induced them to make 
predatory incursions upon their 
neighbours; and their island af- 
forded them a safe retreat with their 
booty. Mytelene is one of the 
largest and most fruitful of the Archi- 
pelago ; this island retains the same 
name which it did in Cicero's time, 
as we find many of his letters di- 
rected to his friends there. Jl pro- 
duces good wine, and wheat in 
great abundance ; it lies near the ! 
entrance of the gulf of Smyrna, and 
on the other hand is Scio. In this j 
last some pretend Homer was born, | 
and the spot is still pointed out 
where they say he kept a school. 

I arrived in the bay of Smyrna 
April 26, and anchored near the i 
castle, about five miles below the 
town, and found there a large Da- I 
nish ship bound into the Black sea, ! 
to Odessa, with cotton. The next 
morning I went to town in a Turk- 
ish boat called a kyike, which rows 
©r sails very fast. We landed at , 
the castle to see the Aga, and got 
permission to pass. He was an old J 
man with a venerable grey beard, ' 
and I found him sitting cross-legged 
upon a carpet, smoking with a very ! 
long pipe. He waved his hand to 
me to sit down, and after asking a 
few questions, and talking a few I 
words to his guards, he waved his I 
hand again as a signal that I might [ 
go; first, however, signifying that 
he should expect a present of sugar 
and coffee, which J promised him. 
In this castle I saw several of those 
large guns from which they throw 
stone balls of a prodigious weight. 
I have been told that at Constanti- 



nople there are guns that carry a 
ball of one thousand pounds; and it 
is certain that when the English 
were driven out of the Dardanelles, 
a ball of eight hundred pounds 
struck the main-mast of (he Wind- 
sor Castle; it remained on board, 
and was carried to England, where 
it is preserved as a curiosity. The 
largest I saw in this castle was a 
four-hundred pounder, and there 
were several piles of the balls which 
would apparently weigh four or five 
hundred pounds; these balls were 
of hard granite, and cut round and 
smooth; the guns were lon<>- and 
very fine brass pieces. The Turks 
who rowed me to town Mere very 
civil, and offered me a pipe, which 
is the usual compliment. 

The city of Smyrna did not an- 
swer my expectations; but I saw 
but little of it. The houses are 
principally of wood, and small, 
and they appeared to be out of re- 
pair. The landing-places were dirty, 
and not convenient ; no quays, but 
a few piles, with broken planks and 
boards on them, and in other places 
only the bare beach. 

As I was not permitted to enter 
my vessel and trade here, my stay 
was short, and I left the place 
the next morning. American ves- 
sels have never before been denied 
a free trade with Turkey, and it will 
be amusing, perhaps, to know some- 
thing of the powerful influence of 
the French in this country, by 
which they are enabled to drive 
away all neutrals, and to put al- 
most a total stop to iho. trade of this 
great commercial city. 

A French consul resides at Smyr- 
na, and he takes his orders from Se- 
bastiani, who is the French minister 
at the Vortc. I understood it was 



194 



DESCRIPTION OF THE CITY OF SMYRNA. 



necessary to wait upon this consul, 
and I had some expectations by en- 
tering from Messina, a neutral coun- 
try as respected the Turks, that I 
should be admitted. The consul, 
however, knew very well I had been 
at Malta, and his sources of infor- 
mation were so good, that he knew 
of my beingexpccted, and had look- 
ed for me a week : he received me 
-with the usual French politeness, 
but told me we were not permitted 
to trade there, by the French de- 
crees ; and he had been particular- 
ly instructed, lately, from iiis mi- 
nister, to forbid the entrance of any 
vessel of what country or nation so- 
ever, that had touched at Malta, 
Messina, or any port at which the 
English had influence or a friendly 
intercourse. It was in vain to make 
any further plea here, but I was de- 
termined to appeal from this deci- 
sion, to the Turkish government. 
In fact, my friend at Smyrna had al- 
ready been to the governor of the city, 
and obtained his permission with- 
out difficulty; he told me, indeed, 
the governor was very desirous to 
have us trade there, and he knew 
he would be very angry to hear that 
the consul had forbidden me. This 
encouraged me in my appeal, for I 
could not imagine that a powerful 
prince like the Aga of Smyrna, who 
has forty thousand men at his com- 
mand, and who in some respects feels 
almost independent of the Grand 
Seignior himself, should submit his 
will to the arbitrary decisions of a 
paltry French consul. I had, how- 
ever, the mortification to find that in 
this instance the consul was the ruling 
power. Cara Osman Oglou, who 
was i his great officer, Prince and Aga 
of Smyrna, on being informed that 
the consul had ordered me to depart, 



was exceedingly enraged, but he 
judged it most prudent to suppress 
or stifle his displeasure. I was ex- 
tremely at a loss to know why he 
should sacrifice his opinion or de» 
sire in this instance; but I was in- 
formed, that had he insisted upon 
my trading there, against the or- 
ders of the French consul, the lat° 
ter would immediately have report- 
ed him to Sebastian i, who had so 
much influence at the Porte, that 
probably at his request the Aga 
would have been fined to a very- 
heavy amount, the Grand Seignior 
being fond of enriching his coffers 
by this kind of penal exactions on 
his great officers. I obtained so 
much, however, from the good will 
of the Aga, that I should be protect- 
ed in any of the adjacent ports with- 
out the district of the French consul . 
Accordingly I left my first anchor- 
ing place, and went down behind 
the island of Oulach, near the en- 
trance of the gulph. Here it was 
agreed that we should discharge our 
cargo, and send it to town in light- 
ers. There are no inhabitants on 
this island, it being rather a barren 
piece of ground, three or four miles 
in extent, producing nothing but 
furze, some wild flowers, and a few 
scattered pine trees. On one of these 
pines our sailors found an eagle's 
nest, and took from thence an eagle 
not yet able to fly. This was a ha- 
zardous c-nterprize, for probably the 
old one would have killed the man 
who climbed the tree, had she re- 
turned and caught him in the act, 
or even if she had seen him after- 
wards with her young one, it would 
have been extremely dangerous for 
him. They are a powerful bird,, 
and the extent and force of their 
talons are sufficient to take off a 






DFSrniPTIOV OF THE CITY OF SVVIINA. 



Ii!5 



iW.in's face «i( one jjripc. The peo- 
ple of the country when they at- 
tempt to rob one of tliese nests, go 
v ith a party of five or six, and w< il 
armed with muskets to defend Ihei i- 
selves. This young bird was kept 
on board above three montjis, at 
which age his wings extended from 
tip to tip nearly eight feet. We 
lay at this station on!}' two or three 
days, and then removed over to t!i* 
cast side of the gulph, to a little 
town and port called Foggia (an- 
ciently, I believe, Phocia) ; here we 
found a sale, sniii;- harbour, secure 
i'roin any sea, a good depth of wa- 
ter and clean bottom. My friends 
at Smyrna bad procured me a pro- 
tection here, from Caja O.-man Og- 
!ou, and a letter of friendly intro- 
duction from him to (he Aga of this 
place. The letter was in three lines 
and a half, written -backwards., and 
instead of a signature bad the seal 
of the Aga's r i ii ur- As soon as I 
anchored I went on shore, and found 
several Turks sitting under a rough 
hind of piazza, peaceably smoking 
their pipes; they took little or no 
notice of me : — this is the character- 
istic of the Turks, they seem tohave 
no curiosity, take tittle notice of 
anything, and express wonder or 
astonishment al nothing. 1 shewed 
them my letter, ami made them 
understand that I wanted to go tv> 
the Aga. One of them, who ap- 
peared to be an officer, who was 
dressed smart, with stockings of red 
cloth laced with gold, got up and 
conducted me into the bity a through 
a stone arch, the town being walled ; 
we passed along some dirty streets, 
ami I was introduced to another 
great officer that could not read. 
They both seated themselves on a 
carpet, ordered a slave to bring 
A r o. XL VI. Vol. VI IL 



pipes, looked at (he writing of my 
short letter, (hen folded up (he pa- 
per and smoked with sil< nt com- 
posure. After (heir pipes were out, 
they asked me how long 1 should 
stay in this port, what I wanted, 
&C. and then signified that 1 might 
ijo. Here finished (his interview. 

After 1 had returned on board 
about an hour, the gentleman with 
(hi" gold-laced stockings, came off 
i;:i aid T must come on shore (o the 
Aga. So I went on shore again, 
and was conducted to a bouse where 
I found three great men, if I might 
judge from their turbans, which 
were each the size of a half barrel. 
They were sitting on a rich carpet, 
■j\\(\ lolled upon cash ions which were 
placed round (be sides of the room ; 
and (he hall below and antichamber 
were fdled with soldiers in arms and 
other attendants. One of these three 
was the Aga, or the governor of (he 
place. The officer to whom I bad 
been first conducted, finding that the 
letter was directed to the 'Aga, had 
sent it to him, and lie immediately 
sent, for me. lie received me with 
civility., asked a few questions, Mid 
lifting up the letter in his fingers, 
intimated thai that would procure 
me any thing I wanted. So I left 
him, satisfied that my letter of in- 
troduction, (hough short, was in- 
fluential and efficacious. 

The houses of the (own are no 
more than miserable huts, the walls 
of which are rough stone and mud. 
and from a peep atthe insideof (hem 
(hey appear not much superior ci- 
ther in convenience or cleanliness to 
our hog-sties — though, by the way, 
they have no hogs here, theTurks, 
like the Jews, holding swine's ilesh in 
abhorrence. Their principal animal 
food is mutton, of which they have 
D n 



196 



DESCRIPTION OP THE CITY OF SMYU.NA, 



Very good. The breed of sheep are 
something of (he Cape ofGood Hope 
kind, having very large flat tails; 
these tails are from six to ten inches 
broad, and almost entirely flat. The 
Turks seldom make use of larger 
meat than mutton ; one reason for 
which, I am told, is (heir manner of 
Cooking, which does not so conve- 
niently admit of larger meats : their 
messes are always hashed up fine in 
cooking, and they eat with their 
fingers; they know of no such su- 
perfluous utensils as knives and 
forks, and, of course, a joint of meat 
is never served on their carpets. 
They are fond of little sweet messes, 
sweet-meats, preserves, &c. smoke 
their pipes and drink coffee; these 
are what a Turk regales upon, and 
having these, he appears to be con- 
tented and happy. They are a 
serious, sedate, peaceable people, 
seldom have any disputes, take lit- 
tle notice of what is passing in the 
world, or about their streets, and 
never seem much interested in any 
thing. 

There are several small burying- 
places near the town (for the Turks 
never bury their dead within the 
cities). These burying-places are 
full of cypress, which give them an 
agreeable, though melancholy ap- 
pearance: when a Turk buries a 
friend he plants a cypress at the 
Lead of the grave and another at 
the foot; these grow up, and thus 
where we have a barren cluster of 
tomb-stones, they have a forest of 
cypress trees. 

The Turkish women keep them- 
selves much concealed, seldom go 
abroad, and when they do,they cover 
their heads with a white veil, which 
comes over the upper part of their 
face, and another covers the mouth 



and chin : thus masked, it is with 
difficulty they can be known even 
by their acquaintances, as very lit- 
tle of the face appears, except the 
nose. 

Since I have been here I have 
got plenty of milk, and milk vari- 
ously modified, as curdled milk, 
sweet milk, fresh cheese, and cheese- 
cakes, &c. There are abundance 
of flocks and herds, and I was quite 
pleased in having occasion to re- 
mark an instance of primitive times 
and manners, in seeing a real shep- 
herd with his appropriate emblems 
of crook and bag. The cropk makes 
a fine figure in every pastoral story 
we read, and I could not help trac- 
ing the bag up to the royal David, 
who had one by his side when he 
slew Goliah. This country also 
produces a great deal of honey, so 
that the properties of ancient Pales- 
tine (from which we are not very 
distant) extends even hither, — it is 
a land of milk and honey. 

The camel is the most useful beast of 
burden here, and it is curious to see 
with what docility they kneel down 
to receive and discharge their loads. 
They carry a great weight, and the 
rule with the driver is, to load bis 
camel with as much as be can get 
up with, and then they travel a 
steady jog of three miles an hour, 
chew their cud all day, and at 
night stop to rest. They are called 
camels here, but they appear to be 
of that species which naturalists de- 
scribe as dromedary, having but one 
hump upon the back, and the up- 
per lip is slit like the hare's. Na- 
ture, in creating different sorts of 
animals, often approaches them to- 
gether, sometimes even confounds 
them. There is no small likeness 
between the camel and ostrich, and 






EIGHTEENTH LETTER FROM ITALY". 



197 



Iicncethe Turks call the ostrich the j 
camel-bird ; their heads and necks 
are much alike, and the very silly j 
movement and expression in these ( 
parts in each are entirely similar. 

I have before observed lhat the 
Turks are a peaceable, quiet people, | 
and I think this is the stillest place j 
I was ever in. They use no bells or i 
public clocks, and the only noise I j 
have heard here is the braying of an 
ass, the howling of jackalls, and the ■ 
cry of a man everyday from the tow- j 
er of the mosque — the cry from the ! 
mosque tower is regular twice a day, I 
and serves in lieu of a bell to summon 
the people to prayers. These arc all 
natural sounds ; I have not heard 
the sound of any instrument in the 
place — what a contrast between this 
and Malta! There the ringing of 
bells was continual, the striking of j 
clocks every quarter of an hour, and 
with the rattling of cannon, beat- 
ing of drums, sound of trumpets, 
saluting and serenading bands, blind 
fiddlers, horns, hautboys, clarionets, 
&c. your ears arc never at rest. 

It is an error to suppose that the 
Turks indulge excessively in wo- 
men ; polygamy is permitted to be 
sure, but there is not one Turk in a 
hundred that has more than one 
wife; they sometimes have a con- 
cubine besides, but this is also sel- 



dom. They do not like to increase 
the evils of life, and one woman, 
they say , is generally trouble enough 
for one man. 

The beauty of the Turkish women 
has been very much magnified, I 
imagine, from the circumstance of 
their being so much concealed. 
What a lesson this for our females ! 
I fthcy would but consider how prone 
we are to enhance the value of every 
thing kept out of sight, they would 
not be so forward to expose parts of 
the body which would increase in 
our estimation by being covered. 

I have occasionally seen several 
female faces here, but none that had 
the least claim to beauty. They 
have a. filthy custom of staining their 
hands, their nails, and also their 
hair, which hangs in uncomely 
strings about the face and neck ; 
their dress is unbecoming, loose, 
and flabby: they are kept in a de- 
grading state of servitude, which, 
of course, precludes all improve- 
ment of their mind ; so that without 
beauty, and a good share of if, they 
must be entirely uninteresting. — 
Hence we may conclude, that al* 
though their prophet has promised 
to the faithful a paradise of fine wo- 
men in the next world, a Turkish 
haram in this is no very desirable 
resort. 



Dcar T. 

Not to interrupt the relation of 
my grand Parthenopian ball and 
festival, set forth in my last letter 
to you*, and, as Don Michcledc- 



LETTERS FROM ITALY. 

LETTER XVIII. 

I deferred, as you will recollect, 
giving you the particulars o( my 
trip to Po2zuoli, undertaken princi- 
pally with a view to invite the fair 
Donna Giuliana and her uncle Don 



Clares, to be remembered by sue- : Ciiacomo to be of my party ; and, 

ceeding generations in the Infrescata, j indeed, en passant lo inspect some 

1 * ^ cg y ^j j I of the natural curiosities ia the 

&9 % 



198 



EIGHTEENTH LETTER FROM ITALY. 



vicinity of that town, which, alfho' m twenty times safely through : buta* 
so very near Naples, had, from j my (foretold) ill-luck would have 
what cause f know not, remained : it, the noisa of the vehicles and their 
yet u n visited by me. brutish masters frightened the poor 

While tarrying on classic ground, ■' animal out of his wits; in his 
it is excusable to be class really su- restive capers and endeavours to 
pcrsfiiions. A most disgusting get oat of the way, he drove my 
sight, which presented itself to my thigh so close against the rock at 



view as I past the square Del 
Spin'lo Santo, seemed to give me 
notice that the present day was none 



the side, that, on regaining day- 
light out of this cavern of horrors, 
I found a piece of my pantaloons 



of my dies fausti. It was the fu- j 1 fairly ground off, and a beginning 
neral of a young woman, who, to I made to extend the grinding opera" 
my utter astonishment, was carried | tion to the substratum of my own 
on a bier, her face and hands ex- j: skin. 

posed, and her hair full dressed ij To have to appear before Donna 
and powdered. In fact, yoa might |i Giuliana in this novel state of 
have taken her for a person asleep, ! undress, was a matter -of extreme 



had not the waxen and livid hue of 
death and her open distorted mouth 



uneasiness, and the silk handker- 
chief tied round the affected part 



proclaimed her slumber to be that I but a sorry palliative. Trotting on, 
of eternity. As I am not writing j however, I found myself soon at the 
a book of travels, I will spare you a jj gates of Pozzuoli, where, among four 
side or two of moralizing reflections, || or live of the same profession, the 
which might be made on thissingu- j, eicerone who had attended me the 
lar national custom. That Don former time, with the officidus claim 
Michcle, with whom I since had [of an old acquaintance, tendered 
some conversation on the subject, \\ his services. I accepted his offer, 
stood up its strenuous champion, | and told him to follow me to Don 
you will easily believe; and, in- j; Giacomo. " I suppose you know, 
deed, to some of his arguments I | sir," replied my guide, "of Donna 
had little else to oppose than my ! Giuliana's bcinir married ?" 



personal repugnance to the indeli- 
cate and shocking sight. 

Leaving the funeral procession 
and their chaunfs, bells, tapers, 
&c. I proceeded, musing upon 
what I had seen, down Strada To- 
ledo and Chiaja to the Grotta di 
Posilipo. Obscure, dark, and dis- 
mal as my thoughts, it resounded 
■with the hollow rumblings of a num- 
ber of carts and the baw lings of 
their clownish drivers. To avoid 
a collision with the wheels in this 
darkness visible, I inclined my horse 
to the left. He had carried me 



There was galvanic power in the 
last word he uttered ; so forcibly 

: did the sudden and unexpected in- 
telligence affect me. To any one 

j but you, my dear T. I would be 

! ashamed to own thus unreservedly 
what I felt at that moment, and 
what surely I had not the most 
distant right or pretext to feel. 
Here's a young woman, beautiful 
certainly beyond description, but 
unconnected with my views by any 
engagements whatever, implied or 
real; in fact, but for two or three 

i interviews, un absolute blranger to 



EIGHT IENTH LETTEB FROM ITALY. 



100 



rva* ; and I, with all the selfishness 
and spite of human nature, would 
fain require lier to forego the op- 
portunif}' of a permanent settle- 
ment in life upon no solid reason, 
or rather for no reason at all. What 
inconsistent, what ridiculous ego- 
tism ! 

I had just time, in my way to 
Don Giacomo, to bring up a reserve 
of a few of the preceding sober re- 
flections to restore the balance be- 
tween reason and passion, and to 
enable me to enter his presence with 
decorous composure. The cice- 
rone's information was soon con- 
firmed by the fair Giuliana's uncle, 
wilh I he addition of a few parti- 
culars not at all calculated to lessen 
my astonishment or ill humour. 
The fortunate bridegroom, a ciod- 
hopper at Ischia — past forty — un- 
known to the model of ideal Gre- 
cian beauty till within a fortnight 
of the wedding — the match brought 
about by the kind interference of 
Father Anselmo, mentioned in one 
of my former letters*, and a varie- 
ty of minor details which would 
not interest you. My visit was 
short, and any invitation to my fete 
now out of the question; so bid- 
ding Don Giacomo a hasty adieu, 
with an appendix to bis niece when 
lie should see her, I joined my guide 
at the gate, and ordered him to 
conduct me to the Solfatara. 

In oar way up the hill, behind 
Pozzuoii, a conversation arose which 
shewed that the enquiries and pur- 
suits of my cicerone were not solely 
confined to antiquarian objects: 
" Well, sisjnor," exclaimed his 
Tullvship, " was I right or not in 

* See Letter IV. in Supplement u> 
toI. I. 



what I told you about Donna Giu- 
liana?" — " Quite right, I am sorry 
to say." — " Why sorry, sir? 
Surely it is a good thing she has 
round a husband ; and he y on his 
part, may boast of the choice he 
has made, in regtrd to beauty at 
least." On my observing that a 
person of Donna Giuliana's charms 
and mental perfections need at no 
time have been at a loss for a hus- 
band, my antiquarian looked at me 
with a knowing eye, premised my 
being a galant-uonm, that would 
scorn to do him any harm by re- 
vealing what he was about to tell 
me, and lowering his voice into a 
confidential whisper (although not 
a soul was to be seen within half 
a mile around), communicated to 
me a mass of intelligence so much 
bordering on the nature of a chro- 
nique scandalcuse, that I found it 
necessary to stop his current of abuse 
by a peremptory order, adding my 
tirm belief that Donna Gialiana'* 
extraordinary beauty had roused 
the evil tongues of her envious ene- 
mies. " She is pretty, signor," 
replied the cicerone; " but we 
have her betters in beauty in this 
town of ours 1 can assure you, sir; 
and, if you will give me leave, I 
shall be proud to introduce you to 
one or two that shall soon make 
you forget Donna Giuliana." 

Vexed with the fellow's slander, 
f cried out, " Mind your business. 
Mr. Jack of all trades, and intro- 
duce me to the cavern of Briin- 
ston»\"— " Of Brimstone, sir?"'— 
" The Solfatara, booby."— M Why 
here it is, sir," pointing to a wood- 
en r-'e before us, placed across a 
hollow way between two ravines. 

It will not be difficult, I think ? 
to give you a pretty correct idea of 



kiaHTEEirri* lEtte» from italy. 



the singular appearance of this re- 
markable natural curiosity. A ca- 
Tcrn it certainly is not, as I had 
imagined ; on the contrary, repre- 
sent to yourself a circular hill, with 
its summit cut off horizontally, or, 
more mathematically speaking, a 
truncated cone, whose Upper area 
might be two hundred yards [in di- 
ameter. This circular area is what 
is called the Solfatara. It is, how- 
ever, not at the top of the hill, but 
gunk in considerably, and entirely 
surrounded by an uninterrupted 
ridge of pretty equal altitude, co- 
vered with trees and underwood. 
From what has been said, you will, 
perhaps of your own accord, com- 
pare the place to an amphitheatre, 
the surrounding ridge to the seats, 
and the Solfatara to the arena, or, 
as it is called at Astley's, the ride, 
tvith this modification, that the are- 
na of the Solfatara is considerably 
above the level of the outward base 
of the mountain, and forms a flat, 
Composed of a soil of a greyish 
white appearance. 

On entering this dismal place, 
you are struck by the hollow sound 
of your footsteps ; and a stone drop- 
ped by yourguide still more confirms 
your belief, that you are walking 
over an immense cavern, concealed 
merely by the sheet of whitish soil 
under your feet; and, on looking 
around, you have ocular demon- 
stration that this cavern, far from 
being a vacuum, is — a gulph of 
subterraneous fire. A pretty com- 
fortable promenade, you will say, 
to ambulate over a burning volcano, 
with the heat of the ground strik- 
ing through one's shocsoles, and 
volumes of smoke, as hot as fire 
itself, forcing their way through 
the fissures of the parched earth. 



This very smoke is brimstone in a 
gaseous form; for every thing it 
touches becomes incrustated witli 
native sulphur. You may suppose 
the air you respire in the Solfatara 
to be impregnated with any thing 
but pleasant smells. I think the 
place must be very unhealthy* 
and. the countenances of the few 
human beings I found at work here 
confirm this opinion. Their em- 
ployment is io extract by boiling 
the sulphur, alum, sal-ammoniac* 
vitriol, and other similar mine- 
ral productions with which the earth 
and the rain water which settles 
in the cavities and ponds, are here 
richly impregnated. No fuel is 
required for this process, for the 
subterraneous heat is quite sufficient 
to boil the water in the coppers. In 
fact,all the above-mentioned mineral 
substances may here be obtained in 
a variety of ways. Provided you 
have a vehicle to collect or imbibe 
the subterraneous exhalations, you 
arc sure of an ample and easy har- 
vest. Tiles and flat stones placed 
over any of the apertures will, as I 
have already said, forthwith be 
incrustated, and the earth itself is 
employed to imbibe the impregnat- 
ed exhalations, being for that pur* 
pose diligently dug up, turned re- 
peatedly with iron tools, and after- 
wards submitted to extraction and 
purification. 

From the preceding description, 
you will naturally and justly con- 
clude, that the Solfatara is nothing 
else but the crater of a former volca- 
no, not extinguished certainly, but 
reduced to a state of comparative 
tranquillity ; a continual burning, 
instead of occasional violent erup- 
tions* The time when this moun- 
tain ceased to be an active volcano^ 



EIGHTEENTH LETTER FROM ITALY. 



SOI 



is beyond the rcacli of history. That 
in the Emperor Nero's time it ap- 
peared much in the same state as 
\vc now find if, may be concluded 
from the following interesting- de- 
scription which the poet Petronius 
Arbiter has left us of it : 

Est locus, cxciso pcnitu? demersus hiatu, 
Parthenopcn inter magnaque Dicliarehidos 

arva. 
C'ocyta peifususaqua; nam spiritus extra 
Qui ferit cft'usus, funesto spargitur restu. 
Won ha-c autumiio tcllun viret, ant alit lierbas 
Cespite la-tus ager: non verno persona cantu 
Mollia discard] shtpitu virgulta laquitntur: 
Sed Chaos, et nigio squalcntia pumice saxa 
Gaudcnt tVrali circutn tumulata cupiessu : 
Has inter scdes diris pater extulit ora 
Bustoruiu flamiuis, et eana sparsa favilla. 

Somewliat more than a mile north 
of the Solfafara, nre the Astriari, 
likewise the remains of an early vol- 
cano. But this, unlike the Solfa- 
tara, is completely burnt out. Its 
open crater, a circular plain per- 
haps three or four miles in circum- 
ference, is covered with a beautiful 
wood of large and small trees, and 
contains two or three lakes, or ra- 
ther ponds. Surrounded on all sides 
by a continued ridge, you can 
scarcely imagine a more romantic 
spot. I have only surveyed it from 
the hills above ; for, as it is a royal 
chace, well stocked with deer and 
other game, the place is inclosed 
and locked by a gate. 

I took my leave of the Solfatara 
and the cicerone at the same time. 
But before I sent the latter back to 
1) is home, I obtained from him an 
exact direction, as I thought, of I 
the way I had to take to arrive at j 
the Lake Agnano, which I intruded 
to take in my road. Ere J had, 
however, travelled half a mile, I 
found myself completely dSsoHentS 
and bewildered ; and to render my 
situation ludicrously worse, I had 



turned my horse into a footpath, 
between two rocks, which gradually 
approached each other perpendicu- 
larly, till there was actually not 
room enough either to proceed on- 
ward, or even to turn the horse. It 
was with some difficulty I got ofF, 
in order to explore on foot whither 
the path ultimately led. To leave 
the horse there was no danger; for, 
as he could not (urn, he was obliged 
either to stand slill, or moveon after 
me in the narrow defile. Going 
forward, I discovered, in various 
places, native sulphur making its 
way through ihe rocks, and tinging 
the stone with a variety of hues, 
some like cinnabar, others bluish, 
and others yellow ; and after pene- 
trating for about forty yards, I found 
the path terminate in a spring, the 
water of which was strongly impreg- 
nated with sulphur. In and about 
Naples, where there are hundreds 
of mineral springs of every de- 
scription, this is no great curiosity. 
I was, nevertheless, pleased with 
the discovery, particularly with the 
novel sight of seeing brimstoncgros?, 
if I may be allowed the expression. 
Another novelty, for me, was the 
sight of vast quantities of wild aspa- 
ragus, which 1 met with in this ex- 
cursion, and which is sold by poor 
people at Naples. If is not to be 
compared to our fine English aspa- 
ragus, and I have seen no other 
than this wild sort since my stay in 
Naples. 

The greatest difficulty remaining, 
was to get. the horse out of this de- 
tile. As I could not drag him out 
by the tail, I got on and tried to 
back him ; but he did not under- 
stand this manoeuvre, and reared 
briskly. Dismounting, therefore, 
once more, I succeeded, through 



202 



EIGHTEENTH LETTER FROM ITALY. 



holding him by the bridle, and 
coaxing the animal, in making him 
retrace his steps backwards, till 
there was sea-room enough to tack 
him about. 

When all was right again, I re- 
sorted to a remedy for finding the 
true road, which, whenever it lay 
homewards, I had, ere now, more I] 
than once, successfully put in prac- j 
iice. The horse now became cice- 
rose: left to proceed according to 
Jiis own instinct, he in less than a |.j 
quarter of an hour brought me into 
a lane, from whence I saw Lake Ag- 
riano right before me, espied and 
tfoon met a party of foreigners and 
Italians on horseback, just coming 
from the lake. In England we should 
have passed each other sans mot 
dire; here ons of the cavalcade, 
without ceremony, addressed me, 
*' If you. corue to see the Grotta del 
Cane*, sir, you are just in time, 
the man that shewed it to us is but 
a little way behind." I thanked 
him, paced on, and soon met the 
keeper of that infernal cavern, at- 
tended by three dogs, the wretched 
victims of criminal curiosity. — I'll 
describe at once. 

This Grotta del Cane is here reck- 
oned a very unaccountable sort of a 
thing, and seems to have been held in 
wonder already in Pliny's time. In 
the 95th chapter of his second book, 
where he treats of exhalations from 
the earth, he says — " Spiritus leta- 
lcs alibi, aut serobibus emissi, aut 
ipso loci situ mortiferi ; alibi voiu- 
cribus tantum, ut Soracte vicino 
urbi tractu : alibi prater hominem, 
ceteris animantibus : nonnunquam 
et homini, ut in Sinuessano agro, et 
JPuteolano : spiracida zocant, alii 

f Dog's Cave. 



Charoneas scrobes, mortiferum spi* 
ritum erhalantes." 

I don't know how it is with you, 
but to me one of the greatest treats 
is, to see a natural or artificial curi- 
osity, described already by a Ro- 
man or Grecian writer, and little or 
nothing altered during the interval 
of so many centuries. Every thing 
in this sublunary world is so perish- 
able, or subject to change, that it 
does one good now and then to see 
an instance, where nature, and much 
more where the little reptile, Man, 
has succeeded in setting the all* 
destroying grasp of Time at den* 
ance : besides, the thought of this 
or that great man having beheld the 
object before me, just in the same 

state in which I now find it, con- 

* 
verts that object, as it were, into'a 

point of communication, a conduc- 
tor between me and the person that 
lived so many ages before. 

But speculations aside, and to 
our grotto ; the descriptionof which 
you perhaps think I have as great 
a reluctance to enter upon, as the 
dogs seemed to feel in approaching 
the cave itself. As soon as the poor 
devils saw me talk to their barbarous 
master, they instantly began, almost 
imperceptibly, to sneak off against 
the sides of the rock, with their 
tails hid between their legs ; and 
when the fellow, with pitiless voice, 
called them to him, they crept, or 
rather crawled towards us in a re- 
luctant curve (caninoid perhaps.) 
Had 1 not already been predeter- 
mined to forego the gratification of 
an idle curiosity, I must not have 
had a heart to be your friend, my 
dear T. not to have been moved by 
the instinctive anguish of these mi- 
serable animals. Giving, therefore, 
the master to unde: stand that the 



EIGHTEENTH LETTER 1'ROM ITALY. 



203 



ddgs would not be wanted, we pro- 
ceeded to the grotto without them. 

To tli is little cave, about ten feel 
long, and six feet in breadth and 
height, you arc admitted by a door 
which is kept locked. You see 
nothing that could interest your 
curiosity ; but a mephitic and pes- 
tiferous gas, extending more or less 
to the height of about a foot, spreads 
itself along the whole floor. Abov;e 
that altitude the air is harmless, and 
you respire freely ; but below it, 
any living being breathing the foul 
air but tor the short time of a few 
minutes, is sure to die under con- 
vulsions. Theexperimentis usually 
made with dogs ; but one of the 
Spanish viceroys of Naples, the 
famous Don Piedro di Toledo, a 
man to whom the cily is indebted 
for many of its improvements, had 
the inhuman curiosity to make a 
trial with two galley-slaves, who 
both died very shortly after their 
being plunged into the deadly atmo- 
sphere. Jf the time of immersion is 
but short, such as one minute, and 
the animal is instantly taken to, and 
thrown into, the water of the lake 
(which is but four or five yards off), 
it will recover from the fit; but its 
health is nevertheless much impaired 
by the frequency of similar experi- 
ments ; and I have been told a dog 
is seldom able to 1:0 through more 
than twenty repetitions at most. 
W hat I am telling 30U here is all 
from the reports of others. 1 was 
quite satisfied with seeing a light 
immersed in the gas; it became 
suddenly extinguished, and. what 
Struck iue most, the smoke, instead 
of rising, travelled m a borizontaldi* 
rectiouto the entrance of the grotto, 
where only it mingled with, and 

Xo. XL VI. /V. VII J. 



dispersed into, the atmospheric air. 
This observation, and the circum- 
stance of the eras being confined to 
the bottom of the cave, proves its 
being much heavier than common 
1 air; and its deadly nature, like that 
! of fixed air (which produces prc- 
j cisely the same effects), unques- 
tionably proceeds from the mineral 
I substances below the surface of the 
I ground, which are, as it were, 
worked, fermented, and forced up- 
wards by tiie subterraneous fires. 

As talking of a fly puts some 
people in mind of an elephant, so 
the view of this cave brought to my 
thoughts the Oracle of Dclphos, 
which had ceased to give answers 
as early as the time of the first 
Roman emperors. The cause ot" 
(his failure, Plutarch, in his Trea- 
tise upon Oracles, ascribes to the 
gradual wasting of the subterraneous- 
spirit or exhalation in the cave be- 
low the temple: I am, therefore, 
much inclined to believe that there 
is some truth in the alledged reason, 
and that the whole of the oracular 
J mystery was not altogether a pious 
|j fraud of the Grecian clergy. It is 
I not at all unlikely that the dave into 
! which the Pythian priestess descend- 
ed, was, like the Grotto del Cane, 
'■ filled with an air exhaled from 
! under-ground, a vapour of course 
I not so pernicious, but still capable 
of inebriating the enthusiast woman, 
of throwing her info a tit of religious 
frenzy, during which she might, 
I like I he magnetized females of re- 

I cent memory, abstract herself from 

II things present, ami, unconsciously, 
give replies relating to futurity, 

1 which, directed by the art and 
I foresight of the keen priests, and 
delivered, as thev were, under pro- 
E K 



201 



THE MODERN SPECTATOR. 



verbial ambiguity, could not fail of 
being frequently confirmed by sub- 
sequent events. Instances of 

But here, you will say, I am 
bewildering myself and you in the 
Pythian Grotto, before I have led 
you out of the Grofta del Cane; 
bringing into hew troubles before 
the old ones are got rid of. You are 
righf, my dear T. and the more so 
as the little I have to add will cer- 
tainly not justify beginning a new 
sheet. Once more, my good fel- 
low, you must excuse these sallies 
now and then ; in a friendly letter 
it does one good to write down at 
random what comes uppermost : as 
Pliny the Younger says, aliud est 
epistolam, aliud historiam; aliud 
amicO) aliud omnibus scribere. — 
Come! three Latin quotations in one 
letter, that is pretty fair I think. 

As soon as the experiment with 
the light was performed^ my guide 
and I bade adieu to the grotto ; and 
here I was witness of another trait, 



strongly indicative of brute under- 
standing and gratitude. As soon 
as the three miserable curs saw their 
master lock the door of the cave, 
they possessed canine logic enough 
to conclude that nothing more was 
to be feared with regard to their 
bearing a part in the exhibition. — 
They capered about joyfully, rolled 
their still wet. carcases in the grass, 
jumped up their cruel tyrant's legs,, 
and licked and fondled him in the 
most expressive manner. Even I, 
though a stranger to them, shared 
in the manifestation of their thankful 
joy. Sterne would have made a 
famous chapter of this ; but your 
humble servant, quite satisfied with 
the enjoyment of the scene, untied 
his horse from the tree, and, with- 
out any further noticeable incident, 
arrived at his quarters in the Infres- 
cata, as reported in his last. 

Everyour's, &c. 

Naples, June — y 1802. 



THE MODERN SPECTATOR. 
No. XIX. 



Sua cuirjue quum sit 
Colorque privus. 

Every man has his particular 

Our characters are in a great 
measure formed by the objects which 
surround us. To expect that a man 
who leads a life totally different 
from mine, should have the same 
ideas that I have, would be ta re- 
quire contradictions. Why does 
one Frenchman resemble another 
Frenchman more than a German, 
or a German more than a Chinese? 
The reason is obvious ;. because 
these two nations, by their educa- 
tion, and the resemblance of objects 



atiimi cogitatio, 

Phkdr. Prol. 1. v. ver.. 7. 

way of thinking and acting. 

presented in common to them, have 
an infinitely greater connection with 
each other than with the inhabit- 
ants of China. 

The general state of mind, turn 
of thought,, and fixed habits which 
are the consequence of them, arise 
from education ami the circum- 
stances in which men are placed. 
It is a necessary effect of the prin- 
ciples of association, that the mind 
becomes indifferent,, if not callous 
to new impressions ; it being alrea- 



THE MODERN STECTATOR. 



205 



(iy occupied with ideas and sensa- 
tions which render it indisposed to 
receive others. Thus it is that we 
seldom see an}' considerable change 
in a person's temper and habits alter 
he is arrived at man's estate; no- 
thing short of an entire revolution 
in his circumstances and mode of 
life can effect it. .Nay, we carry 
the thought of characteristic symp- 
toms still farther backward ; and it 
is most probable that a boy u ho w;is 
considered as nn odd fellow at 
school, will continue to be an odd 
fellow, in some way or other, to the 
end of his days. I have very lately 
heard it remarked of a person who, 
not long since, was convicted of a 
persevering system of peculation ; 
that, during the five years he was 
at school, he was every autumn 
constantly and severely corrected 
for robbing a golden pippin tree, 
in a neighbouring orchard : and lie 
was used to boast, that the dragon 
of the Hespcrides should not pre- 
vent him from obtaining his annual 
booty. 

Different reasons are assigned for 
national characters ; some account 
for them from moral, and others 
from physical causes. By the for- 
mer we may understand all circum- 
stances which are titted to work on 
the mind as motives or reasons, and 
which render a peculiar mode of 
conduct or turn of manners habitual 
to us. Of this kind are tin.' nature 
of government, the revolutions ol 
public affairs, the plenty or penury 
in which the people live ; the situ- 
ation of a nation with respect to its 
neighbours, anil circumstances of 
similar influence. By the latter we 
may understand those qualities of 
the air and climate, which are sup- 
posed to work insensibly on the 



temper, by altering the tone and 
habit of the body. But, however 
ingenious men have reasoned in fa- 
vour of this position, the operation 
of ph?/sical causes is at best very 
doubtful. It is not possible that 
any character can be more uniform 
than that of the Chinese, through- 
out the immense population of that 
empire; and yet we have only to 
examine the map of it to discover 
the very considerable variations of 
air and climate which are compre- 
hended in if. Athens and Thebes 
were but a short day's journey from 
each other; while the Athenians 
were as remarkable for ingenuity, 
politeness, and gaiety, as the Thc- 
bans were for dnlness, rusticity, 
and phlegmatic disposition. The 
Jews of Archangel and Armenia 
are precisely the same in their con- 
duct and their habits. The French 
were not always remarkable for 
their vivacity. The Emperor Julian 
says of the Parisians, " 1 prefer 
them, because their character, like 
1113' own, is austere and serious." 

What a striking picture of a 
sudden change in the character of 
a nation does the Roman history 
offer! What people, previous to 
the elevaiion of the Caesars, dis- 
played more strength, more virtue, 
a greater love of liberty, and honor 
of slavery ': And what people, when 
the throne of the Tatars was esta- 
blished, manifested more weakness 
or depravity ? Their baseness dis- 
gusted even Tiberius. They disdain- 
ed, from the hands of Trajan, the of- 
fer of that liberty which f heir ances- 
tors had purchased with rivers of 
blood. Let any one read the tenth 
Satire of Juvenal, and examine the 
moral vicissitudes in their character 
with which he so bitterly reproaches 



206 



THE MODERN SPECTATOR. 



them. But we may draw our ex- 
amples from a more recent change, 
and in our country. Compare the 
English of the present day, with 
those who lived under Henry VIII. 
Edward VI. Mary, and Elizabeth. 
In short, custom and education will 
ever be found to predominate over 
climate. 

Sir Richard Steele has somewhere 
observed, that the natives of Eng- 
land, in their different degrees and 
several professions, abound more in 
good sense than any other people ; 
and yet at the same time they pos- 
sess a diversity of character and cast 
of thought, which distinguish al- 
most every man from his neigh- 
bour. This he explains by com- 
paring it to what the French call 
le gout du terroir in wines ; by 
which expression they mean the 
different flavour one and the same 
grape shall draw from the different j 
soils in which it is planted. This ' 
national mark is visible amongst us j 
in every rank and degree, from per- 
sons of the first quality and the i 
most polished manners, down to ] 
the most rude and ignorant of the | 
people. 

This variety of character may, I 
think, be rationally traced to the 
following cause : The liberty which 
is our pride, because it is our inhe- 
ritance. Hence it is that we appear 
what we are ; and as every man has 
a right to follow his own humour, 
lie frequently takes a pleasure, and 
sometimes indulges a vanity in 
shewing it. On the contrary, where 
the people are generally poor and 
forced to hard labour, their actions 
are all of a piece : where they serve 
hard masters, they must follow their 
examples as well as commands ; and 
are compelled to imitations in small 



matters, as well as obedience in 
great : so that such nations look as 
if they were all cast in one mould, 
or cut out all by one pattern ; at 
least, the common people in one, 
and the higher classes in another. 
They respectively seera of one sort 
in their habits, customs, and conver- 
sation, as well as in the application 
of their actions and the pursuits of 
their lives. 

England is the only country in 
the world, where every man, rich 
and poor, dares to have a humour 
of his own, and to avow it upon 
all occasions. Nor can it be doubt- 
ed, that it is owing to this freedom 
of thought and temper, to this un- 
constrained manner of acting, that 
we are indebted for the number of 
learned men which rise up among 
us, and give such a lustre and dig- 
nity to the national character. This 
frank and generous disposition in a 
people, will never fail to preserve 
in their minds an aversion to sla- 
very, and be, as it were, a stand- 
ing bulwark of their liberties. As 
long as we have our own way of 
thinking, speaking, and acting ; 
so long we shall retain that charac- 
ter for honour, bravery, and know- 
ledge, for which, as a nation, we 
have been so long and so gloriously 
distinguished. 

I have suffered my thoughts to 
take a larger and rather a different 
range from that which I intended 
when I sat down to this lucubra- 
tion, as my object then was, to con- 
sider that pensiveness of character, 
which, though not very common, 
is peculiar to England. I do not 
mean a state of mind arising from 
adverse fortune, or that nervous af- 
fection which is properly placed in 
the class of diseases ; but that fine. 



THE MODERN SPECTATOR. 



207 



high-wrought, fruitful, benevolent 
melancholy, not artificially caused 
by external circumstances, but 
which is a natural temperament of 
the mind. It is more disposed to 
thought than to action, but all its 
tendencies, though somewhat irre- 
gular, and frequently tinged with 
peculiarity, lean to goodness. Jt 
loves solitude, for then it is in the 
company of Conscience, from whom 
it fears no reproach ; and it proves 
it/ love for others by the ardour of 
its good wishes and the secrecy of 
its good actions. I could with plea- 
sure enlarge on the subject, if a 
communication had not been made 
to me, which describes this charac- 
ter in a vein of poetry which would 
be ill exchanged for any prose. 



Oft have I seen him at the close of day, 

Shun the broad street, and steal his cau- 
tious way 

Through silent alleys to his lov'd resort 

In some dull garden of the inns of court; 

There would he oft retrace the gloomy 
round, 

And fix his eye upon the well-worn 
ground: 

Mutt'ring his wayward fancies would he 
walk, 

In broken scraps of incoherent talk; 

Now stop awhile, now breathe a silent 
sigh, 

And puzzle many a curious passer-by. 

He knew the world, but wish'd it all for- 

The world smil'd at him, for it knew him 

not : 
He sought admittance at no neighbour's 

door, 
His own was only open to the poor; 
Yet bore no spleen, no rancour in his mind, 
He lov'd, though he avoided all mankind. 
Whate'er his grief he never made it known, 
And sought for comfort in himself alone; 
Ideal blessings real bliss supplied, 
And fancy gave him what ihe world de- 
nied. 



Itchanc'd some triflerswatch'd hislono 

retreat, 
And drove him troubled from his silent 

seat ; 
Through the dun shades their childish 

laughs resound, 
He flies, and drops tbese lines upon the 

ground : 
By them his inmost feelings I cxplor'd. 
While thus he woo'd the goddess ha 

ador'd : — 

Goddess of golden dreams, whose magic 
power 
Spreads smiles of joy o'er mis'ry's hag- 
gard face, 
And lavish sheds the visionary flower 
To deck life's dreary paths with tran- 
sient grace, — 

I woo thee, Fancy, from thy fairy cell, 
Where, midst the various woes of hu- 
man kind, 
Wrapt in ideal bliss thou lov'.st to dwell. 
And sport in happier regions uncon- 
iin'd. 

Deep sunk, O goddess, in thy pleasing 

trance, 

Oft let me seek some low sequestei'd vale, 

While Wisdom's self shall steal a side-long 

glance, 

And, half despising, listen to thy tale. 

Alas! how little do her vot'ries guess 
Those rigid truths which learned fools 
revere, 
Serve but to prove, O bane to happiness! 
Our joys delusive, but our wees sin- 
cere ! 

Be theirs to search where clust'ring rcses 
grow, 
To touch the sharp thorn's point, and 
prove how k<u :i : 
Be mine to trace their beauties as they 
blow, 
And catch their fragrance where they 
blush unseen. 



Haply my path may lie through barren 
vales, 
Where niggard fortune all her sweets 
denies ; 



208 



THE MODERN SPECTATOR. 



E'en there shall Fancy scent the ambient 
gales, 
And scatter flow'rets of a thousand dyes. 

Nor let the worldling scoff: be his the task, 
To form deep schemes, and mourn his 
hopes betray'd ; 
Be mine to range unseen, 'tis all I ask, 
And frame new worlds beneath the si- 
lent shade : 

To look beyond the views of wealth and 
pride, 
Bidding the mind's eye range without 
controul 
Through wild extatic day-dreams far and 
wide, 
To bring returns of comfort to the soul : 

To bid groves, hills, and lucid streams 
appear, 
The taper'd spire, arch'd dome, and fret- 
ted vault ; 
With sweet society for ever near, 

Love ever young, and friends without 
a fault. 

I see, entranc'd, the gay conceptions rise, 
My harvests ripen, and my white flocks 
thrive ; 
And still, as Fancy pours her large sup- 
plies, 
I taste the godlike happiness to give : 

To check the patient widow'sdeep-fetch'd 
sighs, 
And shield her infant from the north 
blast rude; 
To bid the sweetly glist'ning tear arise, 
That swims in the glad eye of gratitude: 

To join the artless maid and honest swain, 
Where fortune rudely bars the way to 

j°y; 

To ease the tender mother's anxious pain, 
And guard, with fost'ring hand, her 
darling boy : 

To raise up modest merit from the ground, 
And send th' unhappy smiling from 
my door ; 
To spread content and cheerfulness 
around, 
And banquet on the blessings of the 
poor. 



Delicious dream ! how oft beneath thy 
power, 
Thus light'ning the sad load of other's 
woe, 
I steal from rigid fate one happy hour, 
Nor feel I want the pity I bestow ! 

Delicious dream ! how often dost thou give 

A gleam of bliss, which truth would but 

destroy ; 

Oft dost thou bid my droopingheart revive, 

And catch one cheerful glimpse of 

transient joy ! 

And, oh! how precious is that timely 
friend, 
Who checks Affliction in her dread ca- 
reer ! 
Who knows distress, well knows, that he 
may lend 
One hour of life, who stops one falling 
tear. 
Oh ! but for thee, long since the hand of 
care 
Had mark'd with livid pale my wrin- 
kled cheek, 
Long since the shiv'ring grasp of cold 
despair 
Had chill'd my heart, and taught it 
how to break. 

For, ah ! Affliction steals with trackless 
flight, 
Silent the stroke she gives, but not less 
keen ; 
And bleak misfortune, like an eastern 
bight, 
Sheds black destruction, though it flies 
unseen. 
Oh ! come then, Fancy, and with lenient 
hand, 
Dry my moist cheek, and smooth my 
furrow'd brow ; 
Bear me o'er smiling tracts of fairy land, 
And give me more than fortune can 
bestow ! 
Mix'd are her boons, and checquer'd all 
with ill, 
Her smiles the sunshine of an April 
morn, 
The cheerless valley skirts the gilded hill, 
And hidden storms in ev'ry gale are 
borne. 



EVENTS UELATIVE TO SPAIN AND PORTUOAE. 



200 



Give me thy hope, which sickens not the 
heart ; 
Give me thy wealth, which has no wings 
to fly ; 
Give me the pride thy honours can impart ; 
Thy friendship give me warm in po- 
verty. 



Give me a wish, the worldling may de- 
ride, 
The wise may censure, and the proud 
may hate, — 
Wrapt in thy dreams, to lay the world 
aside, 
And snatch a bliss beyond the reach 
of fate. 



CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE OF THE PRINCIPAL EVENTS RE- 
LATING TO SPAIN ANI> PORTUGAL, from 1805 to 1812*. 



1. The ever-memorable victory 
of Lord Nelson, with twenty-seven 
sail of the line, over Admiral Villc- 
neuve, commanding the fleets of 
France and Spain, consisting of 
three and thirty vessels. The action 
took place off Cape Trafalgar, be- 
tween Barrosa and Tariffa. The 
combined licet was nearly destroyed. 
—21st October, 1805. 

2. The Prince Regent and his 
family quit Lisbon on the 29th of 
November. The next day the 
French enter that capital. — 30th of 
.November, 1807. 

3. The Royal Family of Spain 
is inveigled to Bayonne, by the 
artifices of Bonaparte. Thus become 
master of Ferdinand VII. Napoleon 
employs by turns, and with success, 
both menaces and promises. The 
throne of Spain is placed at his dis- 
posal. Charles and Ferdinand at 
once become his subjects and pen- 
sioners, or, in a word, his itate 
prisoners. — From the 20th of April 
to the Cth of May, 1808. 

4. The loyal inhabitants of Ma- 
drid, alarmed for the destiny of the 



Royal Family, take up arms, and 
are brutal \y massacred by the French 
army commanded by General Murat. 
—2d of May. 

5. The French fleet, under the 
orders of Admiral Rosily, riding at 
anchor in the harbour of Cadiz, is 
attacked by the Spaniards com- 
manded by General Morla. The 
resistance, though obstinate, was 
useless, owing to the presence of an 
English squadron, which blockaded 
the harbour. Rosily surrenders, 
with five sail of the line and a fri- 
gate. — 14th June. 

6. Marshal Moncey attacks Va- 
lencia. This place is defended by 
General Caro. The French are 
obliged to retreat. — From the 28th 
to the 30th of June. 

7. Marshal Bessicres attacks and 
defeats the Spaniards under the or- 
ders of General Cuesta, near Medina 
del Rio Seco. — 14th July. 

8. General Dupont is compelled 
by General Castanos to lay down 
his arms near Baylen, after an ob- 
stinate combat. — 19th July. 

9. The division Vedel, which 



* This article, which is extracted from the second volume of the Philosopher, by 
General Sarrazin, and brings into one view the principal events that have occurred 
during the present contest in the Spanish Peninsula, will, it is presumed, be deemed 
of sufficient interest by our readers, to justify its insertion as a matter of record in 
our pages. The two last articles have been added from the London Gazettes. 

Editor. 



no 



EYENTS AELAT1VE TO SPAIN AND PORTUGAL. 



was posted at Carolina, on the Sierra 
Morena, to maintain Dupont's com- 
munication with Madrid, is sur- 
rounded at the capitulation of Bay- 



len. 



and surrenders to Gen. Reding-, 



almost without firing a shot. — 19th 
July. 

10. Marshal Moncey is forced to 
raise the siege of Saragossa, and re- 
treat towards Pampeluna. — From 
the 2d of July to the 14th August. 

11. General Junot attacks the 
English army near Vimiera. Lord 
Wellington defeats the French. — 
21st of August. 

12. Convention of Cintra ; in con- 
sequence of which the French eva- 
cuate Portugal, to return to Fiance 
by sea. — 30th of August. 

13. The Russian fleet, consisting 
of nine sail of the line and a frigate, 
under The command of Admiral 
Siniavin, at anchor in the Tagus, 
surrenders to Admiral Cotton. — 3d 
of September. 

14. Marshal Lefebvre is attacked 
and beaten by General Blake, in the 
environs of Guenes, near Bilboa. — 
13th October. 

15. Generals Romana and Blake 
are defeated at Espinosa, by Mar- 
shals Lefebvre and Victor. — 10th of 
[November. 

16. Marshal Soult beats the army 
of Estremadura, commanded by 
Count de Belvedere, in the neigh- 
bourhood of Burgos. This place 
falls into the power of the French. 
— 10th November. 

17. Marshal Lannes attacks Gen. 
Castanos near Tudela. The Spa- 
niards are obliged to retreat. — 23d 
November. 

18. Bonaparte marches rapidly 
on Madrid. He carries the position 
of Somosierra. The Polish lancers 
of the Imperial Guard commit great 



slaughter on the Spaniards. — 30th 
of November. 

19. The French army arrives 
before Madrid. The populace, more 
energetic than the chiefs, refuse to 
capitulate. General Morla, alarmed 
by the menaces, or seduced by the 
flattery of Bonaparte, who in person 
directed the attacks against this 
capital, represents to the inhabit- 
ants that all resistance was not only 
ridiculous, but extremely danger- 
ous; and 00,000 men, defended by 
barricadoes and entrenchments in 
Madrid, lay down their arms, or 
take to flight in the presence of 
40,000 men, of whom about 10,000 
were cavalry.— From the 2d to the 
4th of December. 

20. The town of Rosas capitulates 
one month after the trenches had 
been opened. 

21. The English cavalry, under 
the command of Lord Paget, defeat 
the mounted chasseurs of the Im- 
perial Guard, who thought them- 
selves invincible, since they ha'd 
beaten the Guard of Nobles of the 
Emperor Alexander, at the battle 
of Austerlitz. The engagement took 
place near Bcnevente, on the left 
bank of the Esla. 

22. Lord Paget defeats Marshal 
Soult's advanced guard, near Villa* 
Franca. General Colbert is killed 
in the field.— 3d January, 1809. 

23. General Moore defeats Mar- 
shal Soult near Corunna, but is 
mortally wounded. — 16th January. 

24. Saragossa, besieged since the 
20th of December, 1808, surren- 
ders after a truly heroic defence. 
General Palafox was at the head of 
the Spaniards, and Marshal Lanuea 
commanded the besieging army. — 
Feb. 21, 1S09. 

25. General Soult enters, by as- 



EVENTS RELATIVE TO SPAIX AND POIITUGAL. 



211 



snulf, the city of Oporto, on Ihe 
29th of March, after having been 
repulsed in all his attacks on (lie 
27th and 28th of (he same month. 

26. Lord Wellington passes the 
Douro near Villanovo, recovers 
Oporto, and compels Soult to re- 
treat.— 12(h of May. 

27. General Ney attacks (be Spa- 
niards at the bridge of San Fayo, 
in Gallicia, near Yi^o. He is re- 
pulsed, and compelled to retire upon 
Corunna. — 8th June. 

28. Suehet beats General Blake 
at Belchite, in Arragon, on the 
right bank of (he Ebro. — J8f h June. 

29. The French army, command- 
ed by King Joseph in person, at- 
tacks the allied army near Talavera. 
Lord Wellington maintains his po- 
sition, and obliges the French tore- 
treat.— 28th July. 

30. General Venegas is attacked 
and beaten by Sebastian], near AI- 
monacid. — I llh August. 

31- Admiral Goltingwood destroys 
a French convoy destined for Bar- 
celona. — 25th Oct. 

3'2. The French make themselves 
masters of Ilostalrich. — Sth Nov. 

33. General Arrizaga is attacked 
and beaten by Marshal Soult, in the 
plains of Ocana. — 19th Nov. 

34. General Kellerman has an 
action with the Due del Purque, 
near Alba de Tonnes. The Spa- 
niards are compelled to retreat. — 
28th November. 

35. Gerona surrenders to {he 
French, after having gloriously 
supported all the hardships and 
dangers of a siege of about six 
months.— 10th December, 1809.— 
AVhcn this fortress was attacked in 
](JS4, it had sustained twenty-three 
Bieges, without being reduced, since 
Philip the Bold took it in 1286„ The 

No. XL VI. Vol. VIII. 



general of Lou is XI V. attacked Ge- 
rona on the fourth day after open- 
inn; the trenches. lie penetrated to 
the center of the town. The inha- 
bitants were able of themselves to 
drive back the French columns, 
which had carried the place by as- 
sault against the Spanish troops. 
The slaughter was horrible ; the 
siege was abandoned. Thus in five 
days Gerona was besieged, taken by 
assault, and by the energy of the 
inhabitants, delivered from the pre- 
sence of the enemy, who took to 
flight in thegreatcst disorder, aban- 
doning all their magazines. 

86. Marshal Soult, at the head of 
50,000 men, clears the defdes of 
the Sierra Morenn, and penetrates 
into Andalusia.— 22(1 Jan. 1810; 

37. The French take possession 
of Seville almost without resistance. 
— 1st February. 

38. General Sebastiani takes Ma- 
laga, after a very sharp contest. — 
5lh February. 

39. Marshal Victor commences 
(he siege of Cadiz. — 6'th February. 

40. General Augereau beats Ge- 
neral O'Donnell, in the vicinity of 
Virh, in Catalonia.— 20th Feb; 

41. The Duke of Abrantes takes 
Astorga. — 1 1th of April. 

42. General O'Donnetl attacks 
Suehet near Lerida ; victory de- 
clares for the French. Lerida sur- 
renders to the French on the 1-itli 
of May. 

4.J. Mequmeiiza surrenders to the 
French on the Sth of June. 

•14. Marshal Massena makes him- 
self master of Ciudad Rodrigo, on 
the 10th of July. 

45. Almeida opens its gates to 
the French army, after a weak re- 
sistance. — August 27. 

40. Busaco forms part of a chai:i 
F p 



212 



EVENTS RELATIVE TO SPAIN AND PORTUGAL. 



of mountains where the English 
army had taken post, when it was 
attacked by Marshal Massena. The 
French are completely defeated. — 
September 27. 

47. Colonel Trant, at the head 
of the Portuguese militia, surprises 
the French in Coimbra, and takes 
the field equipage of their army. — 
October 7. 

48. An expedition commanded 
by Lord Blancy, directed against 
the castle of Fuengirola, near Ma- 
laga, is repulsed by the French. — 
October 14. 

49. General Musnier attacks and 
puts to flight the army of Valencia 
near Vinaroz. — November 26. 

50. General Suchet enters Tor- 
tosa. This place might have held 
out a much longer time. Its posi- 
tion near the mouth of the Ebro af- 
forded the allies an opportunity of 
succouring it. — 2d of Jan. 1811. 

51. Soult takes possession of Oli- 
venza. On the same day General 
La Romana dies suddenly at the 
head-quarters of Cartaxo.— Jan. 23. 

52. The corps of Romana, com- 
manded by Mendizabel, is com- 
pletely defeated by Soult, near the 
river Geborah. — 19th February. 

53. The allied army from Cadiz 
beats the first French corps, com- 
manded by Victor, on the heights 
of Barrosa. The victory was prin- 
cipally owing to the talents of Ge- 
neral Graham and the intrepidity 
of his troops, who possessed them- 
selves of the eagle belonging to the 
8th regiment of infantry of the line ; 
the first taken in Spain by the Eng- 
lish since the commencement of the 
war. — 5th March. 

54. Badajos surrenders to Mar- 
shal Soult, af(er a very honourable 
resistance. — 11th March. 



55. The vanguard of Lord Wel- 
lington attacks the rear-guard of 
Massena, near Pombal, and drives 
it from its position. — 11th March. 

56. The same corps engage near 
Aronches. The French retreat. — 
15th March. 

57. General Beresford attacks the 
advanced guard of Mortier, in the 
neighbourhood of Campo-Mayor, 
and pursues it to the gates of Bada- 
jos. — 25th March. 

58. Lord Wellington attacks 
Massena's rear-guard, near Sabu- 
gal. After a spirited combat, the 
French position is carried by the 
bayonet. — 3d April. 

52. The Catalonians, who had 
maintained an intelligence with Fi- 
gueras, take this place by surprise, 
and establish themselves there to the 
number of 4000. — April. 

60. Lord Wellington is attacked 
by Massena in his position of Fu- 
ente de Honor. The French at 
first obtain some advantages, of 
which they do not know how to 
profit, and are obliged to repass the 
Agueda, without having been able 
to penetrate to Almeida. — From the 
3d to the 5th of May. 

61. The garrison of Almeida, 
although in view of the English 
army, succeeds in evacuating this 
place, after having blown up the 
fortifications, and rejoins the French, 
army.' — From the night of the 10th 
to the 11th of May. 

62. General Beresford forces Oli- 
venza to capitulate. — 15th of April. 

63. Soult and Beresford have a 
sanguinaiy battle near Albuera. 
The victory is uncertain, but the 
carnage is horrible. — 16th of May, 
1811. 

64. Engagement of cavalry, near 
Usagre, between the advanced 



EVENTS HELATIVE TO SPAIN AND PORTUGAL. 



21 3 



guards of Lord Wellington and 

Marshal Soult.— 25th of May. 

65. Lord Wellington assaults 
Badajos twice, without success, and 
is obliged to raise t!ie sie«e of tin's 
place, in consequence of (lie junc- 
tion of the two armies of Soult and 
Marmont. — From the 6th to the 
17th of June. 

66. General Suchet takes Tarra- 
gona by assault. — 28th of June. 

67. General Blake is "pulsed 
in his attack on Niebla. — 1st of 
July. 

68. Montserat, although defended 
with spirit, is taken by General 
Suchet. 

69. Soult attacks and defeats the 
army of Murcia, in the neighbour- 
hood of Baza. — 9th of August. 

70. The Spaniards surprise the 
French in Santander. — 14th of Au- 
gust. 

71. Macdonald, after a long and 
very difficult blockade, forces Fi- 
gueras to capitulate. — 19th of Aug. 

72. General Dorsenne defeats 
Genera] Abadia in the vicinity of 
Astorga. In general, the Spaniards 
of Gallicia have by no means dis- 
played so much energy as the Cafa- 
lonians; and this apathy must be 
attributed to their chiefs, since, un- 
der Genera! Romana, the Galli- 
cians made Marshal Ney tremble. 
— S5th August, 1SI1. 

73. Lord Wellington blockades 
Ciudad Rodrigo, from the 4th to 
the 25th of September, 1811. 

71. The blockade of Ciudad Ro- 
drigo is raised. The English rear- 
guard is attacked near El Bodon by 
the advanced guartl of the Duke 
of Ragusa. The infantry forms a 
square, displays a firm countenance, 
and retires without being broken. — 
85th September, 1811. 



75. The English army quits its 
entrenched camp at Fuente Gut- 
naldo. The tear-guard is attacked 
near Aldea da Ponte; it wheel- to 
(he right about, rind compels the 
French advanced guard to relin- 
quish the pursuit. — '.. ; 7th Sept. 

76. Marshal Suchet disperses ihc 
Spanish troops which covered Mar- 
vied ro, and talus that town. He 
invests the castle, built on the ruins 
of the ancient Saguntnm. — From 
the 27th to the 29th of September. 

77. General Blake attacks Suchet 
on the 25th of October. The 
French are victorious. The castlo 
ofSaguntum capitulates. — 25th and 
26th of October. 

78. Baron D'Eroles defeats the 
French near Puigccrda, on the 26th 

J of October. 

79. General Hill, by a series of 
bold and skilful manoeuvres, snr- 
prises and completely routs a French 
column, commanded by General 

I Girard, the same officer who hud 
I principally contributed to the vic- 
tory of Ocana over Arrizaga. — 
j October 2S. 

80. Marshal Suchet passes the 
| Guadalaviar near Manisses. lie 

overthrows the left of the Spaniards, 
and compels General Blake to shut 
himself up in Valencia with the 
I greater part of his army. — Decem- 
ber 26th. 

81. The French are forced to raise 
j the sieire of Tariffa, between the 
'20th of December, 1811, and the 
1 4th of January , IS12. Theglori- 
; mis defence of the allies brings to 

our recollection the lirmru ssof Guz- 
man, the governor of that forti 
in 1292. The Moots, who were 
laying siege to Tariffa, took the 
son of Guzman in a sally. The 
besiegers load their prisoner with 
F f 2 



214 



EVENTS RELATIVE TO SPAIN AND PORTUGAL. 



chains, conduct him under the 
walls, and threaten to put the son 
to death in the sight of the father, 
should he refuse to surrender im- 
mediately. Guzman's only reply 
was by a shower of arrows. His 
unfortunate son was immediately 
poignarded by the Moors, who, 
despairing to take a place defended 
by so brave a man, raised the siege. 

82. Valencia capitulates! Blake 
surrenders with an army ! Immense 
magazines fall into the hands of the 
French ! — From the 26th of De- 
cember, 1811, to the 9th of Janua- 
ry, 1812. 

83. General Montbrun canno- 
nades Alicant. He summons the 
garrison to surrender. He is obliged 
to retreat. — From the 12th to the 
16(h of January. 

84. Lord Wellington carries 
Ciudad Rodrigo by assault. Ge- 
neral Crauford, an officer of very 
great merit, is mortally wounded 
in the breach, at the head of his 
troops. — From the 8th to the 19th of 
January. 

85. The French attack General 
Lacy, posted on the heights of 
Altafalla, near Tarragona. The 
Spaniards fight very bravely : over- 
whelmed by the numbers and disci- 
pline of the French, they are com- 
pelled to retire to the mountains. — 
January 21. 

86. Peniscola, by its situation a 
Gibraltar in miniature, is surren- 
dered to the French by the treason 
of the governor. That event must 
also be ascribed to the improvidence 
of the superior authorities, who 
neglected to cause an English gar- 
rison to occupy a point so im- 
portant, from its affording a com- 
munication by the coast wilh the 
guerillas in the interior. — Febru- 
ary 4. 



87. General Ballasteros attack* 
and beats, near Cartama, to the 
west of Malaga, a French column, 
commanded by General Maransirr. 
— February 16. 

88. Lord Wellington lays siege 
to Badajos on the 16th of March. 
On the 6th of April he carries the 
place partly by assault, partly by 
escalade. The heroic conduct of 
the English army cannot be more 
appropriately praised, than by say- 
ing that both officers and men 
shewed themselves the worthy bro- 
thers of the conquerors of Aboukir 
and Trafalgar. The French also 
did their duty ; but Soult commit- 
ted a great error in placing a gar- 
rison of only 5000 men in a fortress, 
the extent of which requires at least 
8 or 9000. That general was also 
too slow in assembling his army 
for its relief. Lord Wellington 
gave him a good lesson of activity 
and boldness. We might be tempt- 
ed to believe that the pleasures of 
Seville have made the Duke of 
Dalmatia forget the principles of 
war which he learned with Kieber, 
and improved under Bonaparte, 
and of which the duke made such a 
happy application at Austerlitz, 
Jena, and Eylau. — April 6. 

89. The Portuguese militia, who 
had taken a position at Guarda, 
while Lord Wellington was on the 
banks of the Guadiana, are attacked 
and defeated by a division of Mar- 
mont's army. — April 14. 

90. General Hill, after a march 
of seven days through a mountain- 
ous country, takes Almaraz by as- 
sault, destroys the works of the 
enemy, and fortunately returns to 
his position near Badajos. — May 19. 

91. General Ballasteros attacks 
General Courrotix in his position 
near Bornos. The French, having 






BAUBITO, OH TltF, SPECTRE OF CUEMZA. 



21.5 



drawn the Spaniards into an unfa- 
vourable sit nation, charge tlrem with 

vigour, and compel them to take lo 
flight. — June I. 

92. The English army make its 
entry into Salamanca, greeted by 
the applause and benedictions of a 
numerous population. — June 17. 

93. Of three forts in Salamanca, 
St. Cayctano i.s taken by assault, 
La Merced by escalade, and St. 
Vicente surrenders by capitulation. 
—27th June. 

94. Marmont's advanced guard 
attacks Sir Stapieton Cotton near 
Castrejon. The English effect their 
retreat in the greatest order. — lSlh 
July. 

95. The French army passes the 
Douro. After several effective move- 
ments by the two armies, from the 
16th to the 22d of July, Marmont 
engages Lord Wellington. The 



'5"o 



! English are the conquerors. Two 
eagles, several pieces of cannon, 
and a great many prisoners, are the 
fruits of this victory. On the 30th 
of July, the two armies occupy 
their former positions of the 16th. 

96. Lord Wellington enters 
Madrid August \ L 2, to the great joy 
of the inhabitants. Joseph Bona- 
parte retires with the army of the 
center from that, city towards Toledo 
and Aranjuez, leaving a garrison on 
the Retiro, which capitulates on 
the Mlh to the number of 2506 : 
189 pieces of brass cannon, 20,000 
stand of arms, and two eagles also 
fall into the hands of the captors. 

97. The French abandon their 
positions before Cadiz on the night 
of the 21th and morning of the 25th 
August, leaving behind a numerous 
artillery rendered useless, and a 
large quantity of stores and powder. 



rnw,MRj»»«u 



BARBITO, OR THE SPECTRE OF CUENZA. 

A SPANISH TALE. 



DuniNG the reign of Philip II. 
a rich hidalgo, named Don Lopez, 
resided on the bank of the Xucar, 
in the vicinity of Cuenza, at the 
farthest extremity of New Castile. 
He had a good heart, good health, 
a good table, and many friends. 
He was in all respects a happy 



had my share in its glory ; I have 
served under the great captain and 
seen Francis I. taken prisoner at 
Pavia. At home I have nothing 
to wish for : my wife is a pattern 
of virtue, and her propensities are 
exactly the same as mine: what- 
ever she says is just what I would 



man : he feared God, he loved (he i have said, except indeed that I 



Kirur, he respected the Holy Office; 
in a word, he was all that in those 
days a good Spaniard ought to he, 
for his peace, his honour, and his 
eternal salvation. 



think it a great deal belter said by 
her ; and she spares me even the 
trouble of scolding cur domestics, 
who very often deserve it. Wc 
| have but one cause of complaint, 
Don Lopez daily blessed his fate, the want of children; but in this 
" What have I done," said be, 1 life we must expect some disap- 
" to merit the favours with which ' pointments. I have young distant 
Heaven is pleased to load me ? i relations whom I tenderly love, and 
have the honour to belong to the w^o return ray affection; and friends 
greatest uatiou iu the world ; 1 have ( who never leave rue; they form a 



216 



BARBlTOj OR T&E SPECTRE OF CUENZA. 



voluntary family, who surround me 
for my happiness and for their own. 
My friends are attached to me ; they 
are people of excellent understands 
ings. I know not how it happens 
that they arc always in my way of 
thinking, for why should they stoop 
to flattery with me ? I give them 
a dinner to be sure, but a dinner is 
not worth purchasing at such a 
price. Is not Father Ignacio, one of 
my guests, accustomed to say, that 
man lives upon nothing?" — This 
good prior of a convent of Hieroni- 
mites actually had this adage in his 
mouth ; but he gave a decided pre- 
ference to the pullets of Cuenza and 
the game of Badajos, and never 
tlrank wine of Biscay when he could 
get that of La Mancha. 

One single wish disturbed the 
good Lopez in the midst of his hap- 
piness. He was desirous of afford- 
ing those around him some new and 
extraordinary gratification, which 
should heighten the degree of feli- 
city that he thought each of them 
shared with him. Long were his 
meditations directed to this subject, 
and at length he hit upon this ex- 
pedient. He resolved to disappear, 
but in the most serious manner, as a 
person disappears when he dies and 
is buried. He smiled when he figur- 
ed to himself the sudden change 
which he should perceive in the faces 
of his dear kinsmen and his worthy 
friends. What an exquisite, what 
an unexpected, what an overpower- 
ing transition from profound grief 
to extravagant joy, when he should 
drop among them as from theclouds, 
and they should hear him say, 
" Weep no more, here 1 am !" 

I suspect how he came by this 
idea. It was not very long since 
Charles V. in his convent in Estre- 



madura, had exhibited the ceremo- 
ny of his own funeral, and Lopez 
determined to follow his example. 
No more than a week elapsed be- 
tween the formation of this design 
and its execution. 

Don Lopez had an attendant who 
was the perfect counterpart of the 
servant of the Centurion. He said 
to him, Listen, and he listened ; Be 
silent, and he was silent ; Follow ? 
and he followed. Don Lopez first 
feigned illness ; he grew worse and 
worse. There was not a physician 
but admitted this, since he refused, 
and ibr a good reason, to submit to 
be bled ; and according to the prac- 
tice of the faculty of Madrid, they 
had, as a preliminary step, pro- 
posed four operations of that kind. 
At length he was given over and 
his case declared hopeless. His 
servant, the only person whom he 
suffered to attend him in this criti- 
cal moment, collected the scattered 
members of a figure provided for 
the purpose ; he hastily put toge* 
ther something which bore no bad 
resemblance to Don Lopez : the 
i real one slunk away by a private 
staircase, and had been gallopping 
1 for several hours on the high road 
! to Cadiz, with the intention of em- 
| barking for the Low Countries, when 
; his image was removed to be con- 
I veyed in procession to the great 
i church of Cuenza. 

Meanwhile all the bells of Cuenza 
were in motion, and the dressed-up 
figure was escorted by the clergy 
and the family in deep mourning. 
The whole cathedral was hung with 
black ; its five naves and all the 
chapels were illuminated ; Father 
Ignacio delivered the funeral ser- 
mon, and the singers performed a 
De profundis in such a style, that 



BARBITO, OR THE SPECTRE OF CUENZA. 



217 



the impression made by it is not yet 
forgotten. 

Don Lopez had meanwhile reach- 
ed the Low Count rice ; to pass away 
the six monfhs of his intended 
absence, he determined to go to the 
•wars. He joined the army just in 
time to share in the victory of .St. 
Quentin, and to lose the little 
finger of his left hand in that en- 
gagement. This accident was even 
inserted in the Mercury of the time, 
but under the designation of Don 
* * *, for, as may easily be ima- 
gined, Don Lopez preserved the 
strictest incognito. His faithful 
servant Pedrillo rejoined him, and 
informed him of all (he particulars 
related above ; only that he might 
not divert his master from his plan, 
to which he was exceedingly at- 
tached, he acquainted him with but 
a small part of the grief which his 
supposed death had occasioned, and 
thus left him in the full enjoyment 
of the pleasure of being deeply 
regretted. At the same time Pe- 
drillo did not conceal this circum- 
stance, that in quitting the house 
on some plausible pretext or other, 
which is never wanting on such 
occasions, of all the friends to whom 
he had bidden adieu, Barbito was 
the one whom it had cost him the 
most trouble to prevail upon to re- 
main at Cuenza. Barbito was a 
Pyrcnean dog reared by Don Lopez. 
This animal was equally distinguish- 
ed for his beauty, courage, strength, 
and fidelity. Don Lopez was tho- 
roughly sensible of the attachment 
of his dear Barbito, which since 
the disappearance of his master was 
transferred to things that had be- 
longed to him. He vowed that on 
his return his dog should have 
whole rabbits and partridges to feast 



upon, and an olla podrida to his 
own cheek on the 28th of August, 
the day or which he had given this 
grateful proof of remembrance. 

Those who enlist under the ban- 
ners of Mars run more than one 
risk. Don Lopez was taken priso- 
tier by a knight of Lower Bretagne, 
who conducted him to his castle, 
and there kept him confined till the 
peace, that is to say, for the space 
of two tedious years. During all 
this time Don Lopez heard not a 
single word of Castile, and saw no- 
thing from the windows of his dun- 
geon but the chimuies of Quimper- 
corentin. 

Meanwhile several incidents had 
occurred at Cuenza. The grief ex- 
cited by the death of Don Lopez 
was too acute to be lasting: such is 
the case with all violent emotions; 
were it not so, we should be unable 
to endure them, and this it is ihat 
excuses the human heart. 

The good Castilian was prudence 
itself, and that he might make sure 
of finding his house as he left if, he 
had taken care fo bequeath to his 
wife the full and free possession of 
all his property. Donna Beatrix, 
for that, was her name, was, as we 
have observed, a discreet woman, 
and such a lover of order, that she 
had not moved a chair from the 
place in which it stood for upwards 
of fifteen years. 

The will was found in the writ- 
ing-desk of the supposed defunct; 
but the dear nephews, who had look- 
ed forward to the succession of their 
beloved uncle, attacked this sole 
support of the widow. A lawyer 
discovered that there was a comma 
in a place where there ought to ha\e 
been a full point, and a particle 
where there should have been a 



218 



BARBITO, OR THE SPECTRE OF CTTENZA. 



conjunction. The matter was re- 
ferred to the corregidor, by the 
corregidor to the oydors of the royal 
tribunal of Valencia, and by these 
oydors to the oydors of the chan- 
cery of Grenada, who, on account 
of the fatal comma, unanimously 
decided against the widow. The 
nephews were accordingly put in 
possession of the estates of Don 
Lopez. Donna Beatrix was allow- 
ed to retain the house alone : as her 
habits were frugal and her wishes 
moderate, as her wardrobe remain- 
ed in the same place, her stock of 
chocolate in the same cupboard, 
and the cage of her parrot in the 
same corner, she was dejected only 
because the loss of the suit remind- 
ed her of the loss of her husband. 

The affair, however, became (he 
talk of the whole country and the 
neighbouring provinces. Don Lo- 
pez having regained his liberty, 
and being put quite out of conceit 
with the idea of exciting surprise, 
returned as speedily, at least, as he 
had departed, At an inn at Sara- 
gossa, he was informed of what had 
passed ; he was somewhat astonish- 
ed, but had no doubt that his pre- 
sence would much more astonish 
his nephews, and restore things to 
their proper order. Instead, how- 
ever, of the magnificent entertain- 
ment which he had designed to 
give, and in the midst of which he 
was to drop from the sky, to his own 
great joy and that of the whole 
company; the first thing he did, 
was to run home, and tell his wife, 
that it was all a joke, and that for 
the rest he had intended to return 
sooner. 

He went in, and found Donna 
Beatrix sitting in the same chair, 
on the same spot, and engaged in 



the same occupation as formerly, 
that is, in making a dress for Our 
Lady of Cuenza. He ran towards 
her with all the eagerness of an 
affectionate husband. Donna Beatrix 
might, perhaps, have been think- 
ing of him, but most certainly she 
never expected to see Don Lopez. 
No sooner did she perceive him 
than she crossed herself, and falling 
upon her knees before an image of 
St. Jago de Compostella, " Ah, 
my dear husband !" cried she, " pray 
don't hurt me ; you know that I 
never did any thing to displease 
you." Don Lopez kept advancing. 
" Ah ! dear, Holy Virgin !" ex- 
claimed she, covering her face with 
her hands, " do not touch me, my 
dear husband, go back again, go 
back ! If your soul wants any thing 
for its repose, I promise that plenty 
of masses shall be said for it ; but, 
for Heaven's sake, go back, or you 
will frighten me to death!" 

The good hidalgo, finding that 
his wife took him for a spectre, and 
that she was too much agitated to 
listen to his explanation, knew not 
whether to laugh or to weep ; but, 
with a view the more effectually to 
revive her spirits, he hurried to 
the convent of Hieronimites, and 
ran up stairs to the apartment of 
(he Reverend Father Ignacio. 

The father had just done copying 
the sermon of a missionary of Gal- 
licia, for the purpose of appropri- 
ating it to his own use. This sermon 
treated of all the appearances which 
the evil spirit is ca pable of assuming 
in order to tempt the handmaids of 
(he Lord, and was to be delivered 
successively in each of the six nun- 
neries of Cuenza. Scarcely had 
Don Lopez entered, and opened his 
mouth to make himself known ta 



BAUBITO, OK THE SPECTRE OF CUENZA. 



210 



his old friend, than the monk, who 
was full of his subject, and very far 
from a free-thinker, stared at him 
all aghast. Poor Don Lopez griev 



into a violent passion, which is na- 
tural enough for a man who is de- 
nied to be what he is. This warm 
altercation attracted the notice of 



ed at the fright in which he had left '' the elder brother, who went down 
his wife, and not less astonished at stairs to see what was the matter. 



the fixed attitude of [gnacio, pulled 
him forcibly by the sleeve. The 



Don Lopez was not received more 
favourably by him ; in vain he had 



jolly prior, roused as from his siesta recourse to persuasion and to 



after a good dinner, and divided 
between the fear of the devil whom 
lie attacked in his sermon, and the 
figure of Don Lopez, which, as he 
thought, the devil alone could have 
assumed, scampered out at the door 
which was left open, and without ; 
once looking behind him, left the j 
field of battle to Don Lopez, or ra- 
ther to the evil spirit. 

Lopez quitted the convent, and 
went straightway to his nephews. 
He first met with the younger, and 
asked if he did not know him. The 
young man, who disbelieved the 
existence of ghosts, burst into a 
laugh. " God be praised," cried 
Lopez, " here, at least, I have 
found one rational person !" Upon 
this he began to relate to his ne- 
phew how his wife and the prior 
had taken him for what he was not ; 
he assured him, that, so far from 
being a spirit, he was still flesh and 
bone — hisdear uncle, the good hi- 
dalgo Lopez, who had always che- 
rished a particular a flection for him ; 
and concluded with trusting that 
his nephews would now, as a mat 



threats. All the servants and the 
neighbours thronged round : one 
said that it conld not possibly be 
the hidalgo Don Lopez, because he 
was at his interment ; another, that. 
Father Ignacio delivered the funeral 
discourse; a third, that he had 
carried a taper on the occasion to 
the convent of the Black Penitents; 
and all agreed, that the stranger 
had something of the look of Don 
Lopez, but for this reason he was 
the more dangerous an impostor. 
A little man, in black, judiciously 
observed, that it would be well to 
secure him, and carry him before 
the corregidor. This proposal was 
seconded by all the bystanders, and 
especially the two nephews; and 
they were just proceeding to put it 
into execution, in spite of the very 
natural rage of our hidalgo, when 
an alguasil major and four familiars, 
or officers of the Inquisition, alight- 
ing from a carriage, seized and hur- 
ried him before that highly respect* 
able tribunal. 

J shall not give the particulars of 
the examination which poor Don 



ter of course, restore his estate, of i Lopez here underwent, or of the 
which they had taken possession torture by water, to which recourse 
rather too early. The young man was had to force him to confess w hat 
was an Andalusian, gay and jocose ; demon had taken possession oi him, 
he laughed more heartily than be- and to what order and class he be- 
fore, and said, " Go about your longed. The good hidalgo held 
business, good man; the mourning out stoutly against the first six 
for von is over." ! classes which he was forced to 

At these words Don Lopez flew swallow; but wheli he was extended 
No. XLYL Vol, VIII. G a 



220 



BARBITO $ OR THE SPECTRE OF CUENZA. 



upon a table, and a prodigious fun- 
nel thrust into It is mouth, to double 
or triple the dose of the fatal liquid, 
his courage forsook him, and lie 
•would have confessed himself to be 
a devil of any class they pleased, 
but for a tremendous noise which 
suddenly resounded through the 
dreary vaults* and diverted the at- 
tention of his tormentors. 

The blast that burst from the horn 
of Astolpho, or from the trumpets j 
of Israel when they overthrew the 
-walls of Jericho, could alone be I 
compared to the sound which wak- 
ened all the echoes of this abode of, 
silence and of terror. The familiars 
fell upon their knees, thinking that 
the last day had arrived ; poor Don 
Lopez raised himself on his seat; j 
the pen dropped from the hands of 
the secretary ; the inquisitor turned j 
p a l c: — it was Barbito, the faithful, ! 
the affectionate, the terrible Barbito. I 
He had accidentally got scent of 
his master near the convent of the j 
Hierommites ; he had followed him j 
from street to street, to the Inqui- I 
sition ; where the gaolers from fear, j 
and (he dogs of the prison out of 1 
friendship, had permitted him to 
enter. Barbito, restless, impatient, 
furious, continued to seek his mas- 
ter ; he perceived him, and over- 
turning every thing in his way, 
leaped upon the table ; and having 
for a considerable time licked his 
hands, at length lay down at his 
feet. Woe be now to any one who 
durst approach him! 

Barbito changed the fate of Don 
Lopez. Bat far him his master 
could have expected nothing mild- 
er, than to be imprisoned for life, 
after figuring in an unto da ft; but 
the testimony of his dog was a ray 
of light that completely convinced 



the secretary. This little man was 
a great scholar, who was just then 
printing a most ingenious disserta- 
tion on the souls of brutes. Barbito 
afforded an additional argument in 
favour of his system, and Don Lo- 
pez reaped the benefit of this. The 
clerk demonstrated to the inquisitor, 
that a dog is a witness who cannot 
be objected to in any country. 
W.hat proved besides that Don 
Lopez was not a devil in disguise, 
was, that he had not perceived the 
least smell of brimstone, which was 
generally the case with those who 
passed through his hands. 

The secretary accompanied Don 
Lopez and Barbito to Donna Bea- 
trix ; at the sight of this witness,, 
conjugal affection overcame her 
fears. But the good hidalgo might 
have perceived, if he would, that 
his return put her very much out 
of her way. She was, as we have 
observed, extremely methodical ; 
for two years she had lived in the 
j style of a widow, and now found 
herself obliged to resume that of a 
Avife ; but such was the goodness of 
her disposition, and her fondness 
for Don Lopez, that the shadow of 
dissatisfaction was soon past, and 
an hour afterwards she thought of 
nothing but the happiness of seeing 
him again. 

The wife of Don Lopez was the 
only person that followed the exam- 
ple of Barbito. The nephews who 
had inherited his property, would 
never acknowledge him, and merely 
admitted that he bore some resem- 
blance to the deceased. Father Ig- 
nacio entrenched himself behind his 
funeral discourse. The question 
concerning the restitution of the 
property was not discussed ; Don 
Lopez recovered nothing, because, 



LETTER FROM A BRITISH OFFICER IN SPAItf. 



w 



-exclusively of the confusion which 
n retrograde movement creates in 
families, the corregidor of Cuenzn, 
the royal audienzaof Valencia, and 
the chancery of Grenada, could not 
be wrong. 

The little secretary, who sup- 
ported I) is book in patronising Don 
Lopez, had a sister, who was first 
iraiting-woman to the king's mis- 
tress, Donna Clara de Mendoza, 
"whom Titian was then painting ns 
Venus Anadyomene, without other 
habiliment ihan a necklace find 
bracelets of oriental pearls as large 
as pigeons' eggs. The waiting-wo- 
man introduced Don Lopez and his 
dog to Donna Clara. 

The first act of kindness certainly 
proceeded from a woman ; in tbe 



sex the heart never fails to guide 
the head. Donna Clara re presented 
('very fhing to the monarchy from 
Barbito to the little finger of Don 

Lopes. She considered only his 
misfortunes and liis goodness of 

heart ; the kin?, on the other hand, 
beheld the services of a brave Spa- 
niard, who had never asked a fa- 
vour, ami settled a pension upon 
him. 

Don Lopez purchased the work 
of the Utile secretary, and wrote tin* 
history which the reader has here 
perused, to warn any one who should 
have a fancy to return like himself, 
to take \Ue prudent precaution to 
cause himself to be first recognized, 
by his Barbito, 



LETTER FROM A BRITISH OFFICER IN SPAIN. 

The following letter from an officer in the British army in Spain, which the kindness 
of a correspondent enables us to submit to our readers, though it may add nothing 
to the political in form a ion which we already possess will, nevertheless, we pre- 
sume, be perused with interest, as containing details connected with the late 
glorious events in the Peninsula, and some particulars which cannot find their 
way to the public except through the channel of private communications. 

Editor. 



Madrid, 17ft Aug. 1812. 

Deau N. 

I wrote to you last from 
Safaraanca, on the 28th nit. I left 
that, place on the 1st inst. and join- 
ed head-quarters on the 5th, at Cu- 



and wetted about 150 barrels of 
powder. The interior of the latter 
is highly ornamented, and has some 
handsome painted windows. 

On the 8th we had a short and 
delightful march to San Ihlet'ouso, 



ellar ; — 6th halted at Del Rev ; — | a hunting palace of the king, situ- 
7th arrived at Segovia, a large i ated at the foot of the Guadarama 
and well built city. The people mountains, which rise majestically 
received us in the Placa with every from its bank. The whole staff 
appearance of satisfaction ; Vina in were accommodated in the palace 
Espania resounded from all quar- and offices. II contains somevala- 
ters ; and a profusion of silks, <a- able paintings and statues. In the 
pestry, &c. was exhibited from the gardens are some magnificent loun- 
windows. The castle and cat he* tains, superior to those at Versailles. 
dral are remarkably fine buildings; I We remained here the whole of the 
In the former the French spiked 0th, when the jets* d'eau were put 
itll the guns, burnt the carriages, - in motion, and some bands of the 

Gc2 



22$ 



LETTER FROM A BRITISH OFFICER IN SPAIN. 



nearest regiments attended : after 
this a ball was given in the palace, 
thus mixing with war all the charms 
of peace. They have here an ex- 
tensive glass manufactory, which 
we all attended, and saw the whole 
process ; several glasses were blown, 
cut, and engraved in the presence of 
Lord Wellington, who observed, 
that he had never seen the operation 
before. 

On the 10th we crossed the moun- 
tains, where a handful of men might 
have disputed the passage with ef- 
fect; but the good fortune of the 
Earl accompanied us, and we halted 
at Cercadilla. On the 11th we stop- 
ped at Torrelailones. In the evening 
of this day, I am sorry to say, wc 
met with a reverse of fortune. The 
Portuguese cavalry were in front, 
with six light field-pieces ; and in 
their rear, in a village, were the 
German dragoons : a body of French 
cavalry advanced, and were charg- 
ed by the Portuguese ; but on their 
nearing the enemy, they were seized 
with a panic, and wheeled round, 
overturning two of the guns in their 
flight. The consequence was, that 
three of the guns were taken. The 
Germans had not time to form, so 
sudden was the affair: however, 
they attacked, and did some execu- 
tion, but at length were forced to 
retire. The French occupied the 
village, and found there a great 
part of the baggage of the troops 
engaged, and the commissariat 
stores of the brigade. Early in the 
morning of the 12th I rode over the 
ground, and saw about thirty dead 
bodies. The French had carried 
off or buried their dead, with the 
exception of an officer and private 
I saw among some vines. The guns 
they drew up together, spiked, and 
set fire to their carriages. 



In the course of that day we en- 
tered the city of Madrid, but the 
head-quarters not until the follow- 
ing day. On the 13th a grand il- 
lumination took place, which con- 
tinued three days. The new con- 
stitution, as established by the Cor- 
tes, was publicly read, and a grand 
procession took place through the 
principal streets, proclaiming it in 
all the most public places. Every 
window was decorated with some 
finery, and those who had paintings 
of Ferdinand, hung them out. Im- 
mediately after this our fifth divi- 
sion marched through to invest the 
lletiro. The exclamations were 
louder than before, and both men 
and women seemed eager to shake 
by the hand our officers and men : 
it was a most gratifying sight. On 
the 14th I had the pleasure of see- 
ing the French march out of the 
Reliro, leaving their arms inside, 
but carrying out a great quantity 
of baggage. The greater part were 
drunk, and railed dreadfully against 
their officers, accusing them of cow- 
ardice, &c. The stores of every 
description found here are immense. 

On the 15th we had a grand ball 
at the Government-House — waltzes 
and country dances. The Prince 
of Orange danced the former re- 
markably well. The Hero of Sala- 
manca was in high glee, and to have 
seen him you would have supposed 
that he thought of nothing but plea- 
sure. He is an extraordinary man : 
the British troops idolize him, and 
the Portuguese and Spaniards look 
upon him as a being sent from hea- 
ven to punish the enemy and pro- 
tect them. I went yesterday over 
the palace, which is really a prince- 
ly residence, although at present 
incomplete. There are an immense 
number of paintings and some good 







m ml %& 



m -tn &imw^ 




sono-SQUAitr:. 



223 



busts ; all tlin ceilings are pointed, 
and (lie whole inelegantly fitted up. 
Joseph left it only two days before 
we arrived, and had not time or 
means to remove but few things, 
had he had the inclination. The 
public buildings and promenades 
are remarkably fine. The women 
are also very superior in beauty and 
figure, and form a marked contrast 
•with the men, who are really much 
below par. We expect to move in 



a day or two, but whither wc know 
not, indeed 1 may say care not, so 
his lordship but leads the way. I 
must acknowledge 1 shall leave 
Madrid with regret; its theatres 
and places of amusement, indepen- 
dent of good eating and drinking, 
make it a desirable residence. — > 
Adieu ! and believe me truly 
Your's, &c. 

J. R. 



Plate 22.— SOIIO-SQUARE. 

Soiio-Squa it f., though not equal i, dame Comely, a place of public 
for extent and beauty of the area to || resort for masquerades, balls, and 

other diversions. When it ceased 
to be used for these purpose*, the 
grand saloon was purchased, and 
converted into a place of religious 
worship for persons of the Catholic 
persuasion, by the name of St. Pa- 
trick's Chapel. 

In Soho-Square are the shops of 
two of the principal booksellers of 
London in their respective lines. 
On the south side is that of Mr. W. 
H. Lunn, (from which the view that 
accompaniesthisaccount was taken) 



many of the squares which adorn j 
the west end of the British capital, I 
may, however, vie with most in re- j 
gard to ihe regularity of the build- ' 
ings by which it is surrounded. It j 
is situated a little to the southward i 
of the east end of Oxfom-street,and 
dates its erection from the reign of 
Charles If. A statue of that mo- 
narch adorns the center of the green 
which occupies the middle of this 
square, and is inclosed with iron 
railing. At his feet are figures re- 



presenting the four principal rivers whose stock of Greek and Latin 

of England, the Thames, the Trent, classics, printed as well on the Con- 

the Severn, and the H umber. tinent as in this country, is not to 

In this square the Duke of Mon- be matched for extent and variety 

mouth began to build a fine stone by that of any bookseller in the 

mansion for his own residence. One 13ritish dominions. On the nest 

of the last persons of distinction i, side is the elegant shop of Dulau 

that occupied the edifice was the and Co. one of the chief importers 

Count de Guerchy, by whom it of the productions of the French 



was inhabited in the reign of George 
II. It has since been demolished, 
and Baseman's Buildings erected on 

its site. Here also is the house 
which formerly belonged to the 
Earls of Carlisle) after whom if was 
denominated, ami which afterwards 
became, under the direction of Ma- 



press. 

Soho-Square will be farther in- 
teresting to the scholar and the 
philosopher, as the residence of 
Sir Joseph Banks, a gentleman not 
less fitted for the high station which 
he holds in the learned world, by 
his attainments and the liberality of 



524 



INTELLIGENCE, LITETtAKY, SCIENTIFIC, &C 



his mind, than by his particular 
and unremitted attention to the in- 
terest and advancement of natural 
knowledge, and by his generous 
patronage of the arts. The house 
of the venerable president of the 
Royal Society is in the south- west 
corner of the square: here the co- 
pious and valuable collections made 
by him, during the course of a long 
life, are preserved ; and here his 
conversazioni are frequented by the 
most eminent literary and scientific 
characters of the metropolis. 

The following anecdote relative : 
to Sir Joseph's father, which we 
believe to be not generally known, 
is so interesting, that though per- 
haps not strictly in its place here, 
yet none of our readers will we trust 
be displeased with its insertion. 

ff Sir Joseph Banks is by descent 
a. Swede, and his father, who came 
over to this country in no very 
opulent circumstances, is said to 
have raised his fortune by an un- 
common accident. Mr. Banks, who 
worked as a labourer at some spe- 
cies of manufacture, was returning 
one day from his employment, at a 
time when a dreadful tire was con- 
suming the houses in a street thro' 
which he passed. Animated by a 
sentiment of humanity, he repaired 
to the conflagration, with a view of 
affording assistance to the unhappy 
sufferers. At this moment a lady 
appeared at the window of one of 
the houses, and the spectators being 
unable to provide any means for her 
descent, she drew back again into 
the flames. Mr. Banks, with the 



utmost intrepidity, instantly enter- 
ed the house, ascended the burning 
stairs, brought off his charge, and, 
having delivered her to the protec- 
tion of her friends, withdrew with 
the consciousness of having done a 
worthy action. The lady who was 
rescued, desirous of testifying her 
gratitude, and unable to discover 
her benefactor, inserted an adver- 
tisement in the newspapers, request- 
ing that he would call upon her. 
Though the advertisement was un- 
successful, and though the lady 
imagined that in her confusion and 
terror she had forgotten the person 
of the unknown; yet, passing some 
time after in her carriage along the 
! streets of London, the face of one 
of the passengers caught her eye, 
and she instantly expressed her con- 
fidence that she had found her deli- 
verer. Mr. Banks being question- 
ed, acknowledged that he had seen 
the advertisement, but having done 
nothing but his duty, had thought 
proper to decline the overture. 
From this moment an acquaintance 
commenced, and Mr. Banks ap- 
peared to be as manly and respect- 
able as he was intrepid and gene- 
rous. The lady he had saved was 
a widow, rich and young, and the 
gratitude and friendship that the 
incident occasioned, at length ter- 
minated in marriage. Such was 
the foundation of the present opu- 
lence of the President of the Royal 
Society*." 



* Catalogue of Five Hundred celebrat- 
ed Authors of Great Britain, 1788. 8vo. 



INTELLIGENCE, LITERARY, SCIENTIFIC, &c. 



So rapid and extensive has been 
the demand for the humorous Tour 
of Dr. Syntax in Search of the 
Picturesque, that a very large im- 



pression is completely exhausted, 
and the publisher is preparing a 
second edition, which will be ready 
for delivery in a few days. 



INTELLIOEXCE, MTERARV, SCIENTIFIC, ScC. 



22? 



Mr. Agg is preparing for (Ik* press 
a poem, to !)c entitled The Baltic of 
Salamanca, which is intended to 
comprise u!l the memorable events 
of thai glorious contest) whicb has 
ahed :i new and imperishable lustre 
on the name of Wellington and the 
British army. 

A poem, entitled The Rival Ro- 
ses ; or, I'f'ars of York and Lan- 
caster, will shortly make its ap- 
pearance in two handsome volumes 
octavo. 

A new monthly publication is 
about to appear, under the title of 
The Protestant Advocate ; or, Re- 
view of Roman Catholic Publica- 
tions, and Magiziue of Protestant 
Intelligence. 

hi the press, Letters on the Re- 
ligious and Political Tenets of the 
Romish Hierarchy, addressed to 
the Rev. Dr. Troy, titular Arch- 
bishop of Dublin, by the Rev. 
William Hales, D. D. late professor 
of the Oriental languages in the 
university of Dublin, and rector of 
Killesandra, in Ireland. 

The Grounds of Protestantism ; 
or, the causes which contributed to 
the secession of our forefathers from 
the errors and corruptions of the 
Church of Rome, by the late Wm. 
Robertson, D. D. the celebrated 
historian, will shortly appear. 

The literary world will in a few 
days be gratified with the publica- ! 
lion of the Adversaria of the late 
Professor Porson. The volume con- 
sists of notes and emendations on the j 
different Greek poets, digested and 
arranged by Professor Monk and 
Mr. Blum field, beautifully printed 
at i he Cambridge University press, 
with Greek types cast after the mo- 
dels given by Mr. Person himself, 
and embellished with a portrait. 



Sir Humphry Davy has in the 
press, Elements of Agricultural 
Chemistry, in B course of Lectures 
delivered before the Board of Agri- 
culture, illustrated by plates. 

Mr. Ivimey is preparing a second 
volume of his History of the Eng- 
lish Baptists* 

The Editor of Selections from i'wa 
Gentleman's Magazine has in the 
press, in two octavo volumes, a 
collection of curious and interesting 
Letters, translated from the origi- 
nals in the Bodleian Library, with 
biographical and literary illustra- 
tions. 

Mr. Thorn, author of the History 
of Aberdeen, is about to publish 
The Annals of Pedest nanism, which 
will contain an account of Captain 
Barclay's extraordinary perform- 
ances, with many anecdotes of 
sporting men. 

The Rev. VV. B. Daniel will 
speedily publish a supplementary 
volume to his Rural Sports. 

An edition of the late Mrs. Cow- 
ley's works, in three octavo volumes, 
is in a state of forwardness at the 
press. 

The Rev. T. B. Dibdin has in a 
considerable state of forwardness, 
A Metrical History of England, 
in two octavo volumes. 

Robert Surtees, Esq. of Mains* 
forth, is preparing for the press, 
A History of the County of Dm - 
The work v ill be illustrated 
by engravings of the most curious 
■ mens of ancient architecture 
in the county, and portraits of a 
few of the most distinguished men. 
Mr. Clutterbuck has made great 
prog: ess in his History of Hert- 
hire, and the work will spee- 
dily be put lulu the hands of the 
printer. 



226 



MUSICAL REVIEW. 



A continuation of Dr. Nash's 
History of Worcestershire is in 
preparation. 

A second edition of Sir John 
Cullum's History of Hawsted, 
with corrections and additions, is 
printing in an elegant style, and 
will appear early in the winter. 

The third volume of Manning 
and Bray's Surry, and the third 
volume of Hutchins' Dorsetshire, 
are fast advancing in the press. 

The following arrangements have 
been made for Lectures at the Surry 
Institution in the ensuing season : — 
Mr. Coleridge, on the Belles Lettres, 
to commence on Tuesday the 3d 
of November, and to be continued 
on each succeeding Tuesday ; Mr. 
Mason Good, on the Philosophy of 
Physics, to commence on Friday the 
20th of November, to be continued 
on each succeeding Friday ; and 
Dr. Crotch, on Music, to commence 
early in 1813. 



MUSICAL REVIEW. 

Six Canzonets for the Voice, com- 
posed, with an Jccompanimcnt 
for the Piano- Forte, and most 
respectfully dedicated to the 
Right Honourable Lady Mary 
Lennox, by Sir J. A. Stevenson, 
Mus. Doc. First Set. Pr. 8s. 
The rehearsal of these canzonets 
has afforded us an hour's most 
agreeable employment. They are 
conspicuous for that elegance of 
melody, suitable delicacy of ex- 
pression, and richness and vari- 
ety of accompaniment, which have 
rendered the doctor's vocal works 
so deservedly admired in this and 
the sister kingdom. The imitation 
of the Italian style, perceptible 
both in the melodies and the accom- 
paniments of the present as well as 



other publications of our atithor ? 
bespeak a refined taste and a correct 
judgment. It would be somewhat 
bold, to give a decisive opinion 
as to the comparative merits of 
the six canzonets before us ; all 
possess peculiar features of attrac- 
tion, although our own partiality 
leans towards the third. After this 
general and well merited commen- 
dation of the whole, we shall state 
a few of the observations that oc- 
curred to us in the perusal. The 
triplet accompaniment of the 1st 
canzonet in * time, will require a 
very steady timeist to apportion cor- 
rectly his four quavers in every bar 
of the voice to the six trioled qua- 
vers in the accompaniment, so as 
not to verge into a -f melody. la 
the duets, Nos. 2 and 5, the first 
voice (supposing the first vocal 
staff to be intended as such) is gene- 
rally lower than the second, thus 
converting, for instance, a lower 
sixth into an upper third, &c. ; a 
practice which, however frequent 
with many English composers, is, 
in our opinion, productive of an 
unnatural effect : the return, like- 
wise, into the key of E from that 
of B (p. 7, /. \), is too sudden and 
unprepared ; in canz. V. bar 8, 
the accompaniment leading to the 
transition in A, appears defective, 
as involving concealed successive 
fifths ; and, p. 18, /. 3, b. 2, the 
two first crotchets in the voice ought 
to be quavers. The idea p. 15, /. 
2, b. 2, is a varied repetition of 
the one in the preceding canzonet, 
p. 12, 1.3, b. 1. In the sixth can- 
zonet the solution into the inverted 
chord of F (p. 22, /. 3, b. 5), ap- 
pears, in the way it is brought about 
by the preceding bar, very harsh 
to the eve as well as the ear. 



MUSICAL REVIEW. 



SrVT 



the minor andantino, and the live!}- 

conclu ling quick movement, de- 

nandi likewise special notice. — 

" Though love is warm awhile,' 
is agreeable, unci smartly imagined; 
•nd," Behold in his soft, expressive 
face," is in many respects an inter* 
■stiii;/ and pleasing composition. 

Mr. Hern's share of this open is 
much more voluminous. The over- 
lure does him credit, iis introduc- 
fory slow movement teems with »Cf- 
entific snd chromatic touches. A 
bravura of Mrs. Dickons, " Bright 
Sun, I adote the?" claims parti- 
cular notice. The recital ivo is strik- 
ingly impressive, and the polaeca 
theme of the succeeding quick 
movement very elegant, But in 
die last line of this very recitafivo 
(lirst bar), we discover an unac- 
countable flaw — at once fierce suc- 
cessive fifths in the two lust crotch- 
ets of the accompaniment, and au 
erroneous chord to the hist B of the 
voice. The quartett, " The vesper 
bell," is interesting. Another song 
of Mrs. Bland's, " The parent bird 
awhile forsakes," is conspicuous for 
so plain a texture. The best, of the ils taste and variety in point of me- 
whole, and indeed a very able per- || lody, and ils vet y select accompani- 
formance, is the picture song, " 'Tis ij ment. In Miss Kelly's song 1 , " The 
hit fancy's sketch." The merit of sigh, and she knew not why," wc 
this song lies, next to the appro- :' have to remark another slip of the 
priate musical expression for the ii author's pen. The ascent in the 
text, in the happy idea of assigning ji bass of the 3d and 4ih bars of the 
to liie instruments one melody in j symphony, might do very well if 
fiowingly linked quivers, while the ! ! music were only written for the eye; 
voice intrudes with another, quite Ij but as it is for the ear, we must 
different and independent, and ut- "' object to the fourth bar, the bass 
terly unsupported by theacco-npa- of which d»es no longer tali in ap- 
niment ; in the manner of " Some > prnpriately with Hie third repetition 
sia ilvento" in u Cosi fan' tulle," , of the three quavers in the treble. 



The Vr.riLX lininai:, an Ope- 
ratic Romance, in Three Acts, 
performing with universal ap- 
plause at the Theatre lloj/al, 
J t/eeum ; writtet by S. J. Ar- 
nold, Esq.; the Mi it composed 
and arranged for the Piano- 
J'ortc, by C. E. Horn and Mr. 
Braham. Pr. 15s. 
The very great number of piece* 
comprised in this opera, will not 
permit our report to extend to a 
length proportionate to the work. 
As, however, the composition has 
been a partnership concern, we sir. I! 
treat briefly and separately of the 
contributions from each member of 
the fume. 

From Mr. Braham's pen we have 
about live or six pieces only, being 
those in which he had to sing himself. 
They are perhaps not so elaborate 
as his earlier compositions, yet, as 
like all Mr. Braham's music, their 
melody and harmony are decidedly ; 
of the Italian school; they please! 
the ear, and are attended with bril- 
liancy and show iness in (heir dra- 
matic effect, let them be of ever ' 



or " Deh rieni alia fenestra," in 

" Don Giovanni." The prison 
song, wilh its pathetic recitative, 
No. XLVJ. Vol. VI 11. 



Upon the whole, this opera will 
afford a fund of entertainment u> 
vocal amateurs. 
11 a 



228 



MUSICAL REVIEW. 



The Hunters of the Alps, a Ron- 
do for the Piano-Forte, by W. 
Fish. Pr. 2s. 

This production conveys a fa- 
vourable impression of Mr. F.'s 
abilities. The andante prelude in 
E b is neatly devised; and in the 
rondo itself, we observe several 
pleasing passages p. 4, an agreeable 
minor part p. 5, some interesting 
and well-joined ideas p. 6, and a 
brilliant, although not original, | 
conclusion p. 7. The whole is j 
easy and very proper music for the 
praclice of the student. 
A Sonata for the Piano- Forte, in 
which is introduced a favourite 
Irish Air, composed, and dedi- 
cated to Mrs. (y Grady, of Kil- 
balh/owen, by George Buchanan. 
—Op. 2. Pr. 3s. 
Although somewhat deterred by 
the very first page, we had the per- 
severance to go through the whole 
of this sonata, purposely with a 
wish to discover at least something 
which might claim favourable no- 
tice ; but our endeavour has been 
fruitless. The author's ideas, turns, 
and passages, as well as his bass 
and harmonic arrangement, are not 
of the present time ; every thing 
appears fifty years in arrear. The 
melody, as much as there is of it, 
is simple and common-place; and 
the accompaniment meager and 
harsh. Besides these general re- 
marks, there are many individual 
parts which are radically objection- 
able : of those we will only mention 
p. 4, /. 4, bars 2 and 3, the bass of 
which presents the most barefaced 
successive fifths. The descent of 
the left hand, p. 8, 11. G and 7, 
produces most repugnant harmony : 
much the same may be said of th< 
curious transition -to the key of D, 



p.l,!A; and another, from G minor 
to B major, p. 10, I. 3, b. 4, is too 
unprepared. The chord too, assign- 
ed to the latter half of the next fol- 
lowing bar, instead of being !, should 
be J, &c. &c. 

A Treatise on the Elements of 
Music, in a Series of Letters to 
a Lady, illustrated zcith Plates, 
by William Stectz, of Hamburg. 
Pr. 15s. 

We are pleased with the author's 
idea of clothing the dry rudiments 
of theoretical music in the familiar 
garb of epistolary correspondence. 
Indeed, when it is considered that 
drawing, botany, mythology, and 
even natural philosophy have been 
" made easy" to the capacity of the 
fair sex by the same means, it is a 
matter of surprise, that the path 
chosen by Mr. S. should not have 
been trodden before in this country. 
As the matter contained in the letters 
before us is not new, their merit is 
to be sought for in the manner in 
which the subject has been treated. 
In point of perspicuity we think 
they are entitled to unqualified com- 
mendation. The author gives his 
instruction in a facile and clear 
manner peculiar to himself. His 
style is frequently humorous, always 
lively; but his naivete at times 
borders on vulgarity. To " pop" 
upon a passage, or into a room ; to 
wish a tiling at " Old Nick," and 
other expressions of that stamp, 
would be deemed inelegant in com- 
mon conversation, much more so 
in letters addressed to a lady. Nor 
do we think the excessive praise 
j bestowed by Mr. S. on th-e musical 
j taste and talent of his own country 
' at the expence of poor England, any 
i great u captatio benevolentice ,y with 
i a BniTisii fair, who might be 



MUSICAL REVIEW. 



229 



templed to reply to Mr. S. " If 
your Germans had fiddled less and 
fought better, they would not now 
have to dance to the time of a 
foreign tyrant." We mention these 
matters with the greater freedom, 
as the author himself modestly 
solicits to be informed of the defects 
of his work, and as their omission 
in a second edition will, in our 
opinion, benefit the success of his 
labour; although, even in their 
present edition, they are not of a 
nature to prejudice an impartial 
reader against the real merits of the j 
work. The chapters on the major j 
nnd minor gamuts, and the brief 
instructions on chords, are olear 
and satisfactory; and the " little 
rounds," or mechanical instruments, 
for devising all the major and minor 



comprehensive and satisfactory. — 
Upon the whole, we think Mr. S.'s 
treatise a fit book for the instruction 
of (he musical student ; and his me- 
thod most likely to interest the at* 
tent ion of such amateurs as have not 
resolution and patience sufficient for 
entering on the study of more ab- 
stract and complete systems of the 
harmonic science. 

A Duct for the Harp and Piano- 
Forte, composed, and dedicated 
to the Misses Langston^ by J. B. 
Cramer. — Op. 52. Pr. 7s. 6d. 
The duet before us consists of 
three movements, an allegro in B b, 
j an adagio in E b, and a rondo in 
B b. It is no small praise in the 
numerous works of this classic com- 
poser, to acknowledge that he re- 
peats himself in nothing, except in 



scales a r id chords, are certainly very the elegance and harmonic excel- 
ingeniously contrived, and well cal- t lence with which he treats every 
culated to assist mechanical heads, thing that issues from his prolific 
We could have wished the author I pen. This observation applies for- 
had entered more fully into the doc- ij cibly to the present composition ; 
trine of chords, concords, as well I the allegro is distinguished by an 
as discords; and not reserved that , inimitable richness and brilliancy of 



task to his projected Treatise on 
Thorough- Bass, lie would, by so 
doing, have been enabled to have 
treated the chapter of transitions 
with greater method and facility, 
than in the way he has done by 
means of the subsemitoniinn, or, as 
he terms it, the " Sensible Note." 
We certainly should have preferred 
for illustration of this part of the 
treatise, examples exhibiting the 
bare, but full chords, to the pre- 



idcas, relieved at intervals with 
beautifully melodious dolces, an 
emulation of the two instruments in 
alternately fine and bold responsive 
flights, and many scientific modu- 
lations, especially in the second 
part. In the adagio we are won by 
the usual flow of the author's pathe- 
tic softness ; and the f subject 'With 
which the rondo sets out, and which 
is handled subsequently in a mas- 
terly manner, commands applause 



hides given in plates 1^. V r . and by its charming simplicity. Of (he 
IX. the passages of which, are awk- elfect of the harp, we are, in the 
ward and uncouth. The directions ! present instance, prevented from 
for tuning (he piano-forte, contain- !| judging practically ; but a careful 
cd in chapter XIII. are ample and ! l perusal Of the part, and a com pa- 
appropriate ; and the musical voca- i rison with that of the piano-forte, 
hularv at the end of the work, is I enables us to anticipate the treat 

II H 2 



250 



MUSICAL REVIEW. 



which this publication will afford 
us when we shall have an opportu- 
nity of commanding the assistance 
of an experienced hand on the for- 
mer instrument. 

'■' Now in her green Mantle ," a 
Glee for four Voices, as sung 
by Mrs. Vaughan, Messrs. TV. 
Knyvctt, Vaughan, and J. B. 
Sale, composed by W. Knyvett. 
Pr. Is. 6d. 

Although we observe in this glee 
no particular features of originality, 
yet the melody is pleasing, and the 
four parts are built with that re- 
spectable share of skilful contri- 
vance, which cannot fail to procure 
vocal amateurs an agreeable and 
instructive exercise. If the second 
stave is to be sung by the male 
voice exactly as indicated by the G 
cleff, it will not only be found of 
very high ascent, but produce that 
kind of trifling effect which is al- 
ways perceptible when a second is 
set higher than the first part it is 
to support; and, on the other hand, 
if the pitch is intended an octave 
lower than it is written, why not 
prefix at once the counter-tenor- 
elefT, in the same manner as the 
third voice has the tenor-cleff as- 
signed to it, by which means all un- 
certainty would have been avoided ? 
P. A. Co riu's Original Si/stem of 
Preluding, comprehending In- 
structions on that Branch of Pi- 
ano-Forte Playing^ with upwards 
of 200 progressive Preludes, in 
every Key and Mode, and in 
different Styles, so calculated that 
Variety may be formed at Plea- 
sure. Pr. 8s. 

The preceding publication is a 
considerable and a very interesting 
portion of Mr. Corri's great work, 
JUAnimadi Musica, to which we 



allotted an extended space in our 
| musical criticism of No. XXXVI. 
i of the Repository. As on that oc- 
casion we spoke fully on the distin- 
guished merits of this part of the 
work, we shall beg leave to refer 
our readers to the before-mentioned 
number; adding our approbation 
of the publishers, Messrs. ChappeLl 
& Co. giving the present extract 
separately, and thus rendering the 
instructions it contains more acces- 
sible to the generality of students. 
" Auld Lang Syne" a favourite 
Scotch Air, with eight Varia- 
tions and Coda for the Piano- 
Forte, by F. Lanza. Pr. 2s. 6d. 
To experienced players " Auld 
Lang Syne ,r may be recommended 
as a composition deserving of their 
attention. The variations are skil- 
fully devised, and replete with di- 
versified treatment of the theme. 
Among those which struck our fan- 
cy particularly, we shall mention 
No. 3, with its clever harmonic ar- 
rangement: the largo, No. 5, like- 
wise has strong claims on our fa- 
vour; as also the andante, with its 
appropriate crossed - hand evolu- 
tions. A particularly meritorious 
passage occurs in the andante maes- 
toso/;. 8, //. 3 and 4; and the neat 
coda into which it verges is ingeni- 
ously deduced from the spirit of the 
original subject. 

ii Ah! sure a Pair," a favourite 
Scotch Air, with six Variations 
and Coda for the Piano- Forte, 
by F. Lanza. Price 2s. 6d. 
"AhS sure a Pair," to say the 
least, is not inferior in merit to the 
composition by the same author just 
mentioned, and is entitled to the same 
general headsof commendation. In- 
dividually speaking, thv 5th varia- 
tion has our decided predilection ; 



9 



% - 




FROWEPTATOE COSTUME 



i 










' 



FASHIONS FOR LADIES. 



231 



it is an excellent specimen of Mr. 

L.'s talents and sterling science. 

r l 'lie third, with its numerous dimi- 

semiquaver rests, possesses much 

attractive neatness; and the 1st and 

2d are flowing and elegant. In the 

Gfh, page 8, we observe some well 

introduced crossed- hand lenps; and 

the two cadences }). 9, with the 

tostenuto passage following upon 

them, are conceived with taste. This 

piece, like the preceding, requires 

a performer already considerably 

advanced in skill. 

A Fourth Set of Six JVaJtres for 

the Piano- Forte, in which are in* 

troduced several favourite Airs, 

composed, and dedicated to Miss 

Devall, by P. A. Kreusser. Op. 

2S. Pr. 5s. 

In two or three of our former num- 
bers we have offered to the notice of 
onr readers some of Mr. K.'s works, 
highly distinguished by their depth 
of harmonic science and the origi- 
nality of their ideas. At present, 



we have to introduce the same au- 
thor in a very different garb ; a line* 
as light and pretty as the other was 
serious and abstruse. These Walt- 
zes are completely conceived in the 
spirit of that favourite German 
movement, elegant, sprightly, void 
of studied passages or harmony, and 
indeed eminently calculated for the 
practical execution of either the 
hands or feet. As they are set re- 
markably easy, we would strenu- 
ously recommend them to beginners. 
They will play them with case, and 
their musical ear will readily seize 
theturn ofthe different short phrases 
they are composed of. \V"e arc well 
acquainted with the three first Sets of 
Mr.Kreusser's Waltzes, and can aver 
that the present addition falls in no 
way short of its predecessors. 

* # * The Editor has to apologize to 
the Conductor of the Musicul Review, 
for having, from want of room, omitted 
several articles prepared for the Musical 
Catalogue of this month. 



FASHIONS FOR LADIES. 



rLATF.SG. "PROMENADE COSTUME. 

A plain muslin robe, finished at 
the bottom with a border of needle- 
work, long full sleeves, and formed 
high m the neck, with simple collar, 
confined in the center ofthe throat 



PLATE 27. — AUTUMNAL CAItRIAGi. 
OR MORNING COSTUME. 

A plain jaconot muslin robe, 
formed high in the neck, with dou- 
ble frills of deep Vandyke lace. A 

grey snti;: spencer, ornamented with. 



with a topaz broach, and buttoned J] silver cord and button* en mililaire, 
down the bosom ; an amber-colour- '} and confined at the throat with a 



ed sash, tied in irregular bows and 
ends in front ofthe figure. A rosa- 
ry and cross of the coqnilla nut. 



correspondent cord and tassels ; the 
spencer formed without a collar, 

and the double frill of the morning 



A la p pel led cloak, of bright amber robe falling over. A quartered 



or yellow crape, faced with satin, 
and edged with tinted ribband of 
the same colour. A Wellington 



foundling cap of lace, confined with 
a full band of the same under the 
chin, and ornamented on one side 



hat of straw, (rimmed with white \\i:!i an autumnal flower. Shoes 
ribband. Gloves anil shoes pf-jel- ■ '. of grey kid : gloves, lemon colour ; 
low kid. • and ridicule of purple velvet. 



232 



RETROSPECT OF POLITICS. 



SPANISH PENINSULA. 

Anglo-Portuguese Army. 

Nothing can prove more strong- 
ly and incontrovertibly the magni- 
tude of the glorious victory gained 
at Salamanca on the 22d of July, 
than the momentous consequences 
■which have been the immediate re- 
sult of it — the entrance of the British 
army into Madrid, and the raising 
of the siege of Cadiz. 

Our last report left Lord Wel- 
lington's head-quarters at Olmcda, 
on the 28th July. The French, 
panic struck by their recent defeat, 
and his lordship's rapid pursuit, 
continued their flight ; and on the 
29th, their rear-guard crossed the 
Douro at Trudella, moving north- 
ward to join the body of their army, 
which had marched towards Burgos, 
abandoning Valladolid, and leaving 
behind 17 pieces of cannon, consi- 
derable stores of ammunition, and 
a hospital with S00 sick. On the 
31st, Lord Wellington entered the 
latter city, amid the shouts of its 
grateful inhabitants, who (prema- 
turely as will appear) hailed his 
arrival as the earnest of their final 
deliverance from the French yoke. 

In the mean time, Joseph Bona- 
parte had again moved forward from 
the Guadarama pass to Segovia, 
with an evident view to effect a 
junction with the French army of 
Portugal, commanded by General 
Clausel since the wound Marmont 
had received on the 22d, which, ac- 
cording to the most credible reports, 
did not prove mortal, but required 
the amputation of an arm. To frus- 
trate Joseph's design, our general 
pushed his army still further east, 



and on the 4th of August had his 
head-quarters at Cuellar, rig-lit be- 
tween the two French armies. This 
movement induced ihe royal usurp- 
er to give up all hopes oi effecting 
his purpose; he once more retreated 
from Segovia, in the direction of 
Madrid. 

Lord Wellington, upon this, re- 
solved to leave the army of Portu- 
gal, crippled as it was, to its fate 
north of the Douro, and either to 
bring Joseph to a general action, or 
force him to quit Madrid. Accord- 
ingly the army moved from Cuellar 
on the 6th, and entered, without 
opposition, Segovia on the 7th, and 
St. Iklefonso on the 8th. General 
D'Urban, with the Portuguese and 
some German cavalry, a troop of 
English horse artillery, and a ba- 
tallion of German light infantry, 
was sent forward on the 9th through 
the Guadarama pass. In his further 
progress towards Madrid, he drove 
in the French cavalry, about 2000 
in number, who retired towards 
Naval Car.iero; and placed himself 
at Majaiahonda. But in the even- 
ing of the same day, the French 
cavalry returned again, and General 
D'Urban forming his corps for ac- 
tion, ordered the allied cavalry to 
charge the van of the French horse, 
which appeared to be too far ad- 
vanced to be supported by their 
main body. Unfortunately, the 
Portuguese cavalry turned about 
before they had reach d their foe, 
and fled through Majilahonda, 
leaving our horse artillery exposed 
to the enemv. By the exertions, 
however, of Captain M' Don a id, the 
artillery was saved, excepting three 



JICTROSPFXT OF POLITICS. 



V33 



guns, the carriages of which had i 
be '" overturned or broken. The 
Portuguese civalry was formed 
■gait upon their brave allies, the 
]i u . iTian horsey who charged the 

< y and er great disadvantages, 

,n d thereby gained time tor the ar- 
rival* f reinforcements, which final* 
K chased lit" enemy nut of the vil- 
lage, and recovered our lost gans. 
As this is the first instance in which 
any port ol our Portuguese allies 
hive deceived the expectations of 
their commander, we will not judge 
harshly of (heir unaccountable con- 
duct on this occasion, in which the 
gallant behaviour of their officers 
earned the praise of our general: 
it happens sometimes in military 
events, that the best troops are, bv 
a trifling circumstance, or by the 
cowardice of a few individuals, 
thrown into a panic which they 
themselves are at a loss how to ac- 
count for. After the affair of Maja- 
lahonda, in which we naturally met 
with some loss (about 100 men hors 
de combat), the enemy retired to- 
wards Aranjnez and Toledo, leaving 
the road to Madrid open, and a 
garrison in the Retire, a citadel of 
French construction, commanding 
Madrid. On the 13lh our troops 
entered Madrid, greeted by the 
shouts of its numerous population, 
which had been oppressed by French 
tyranny ever since the 4th of De- 
cember, 180S. On the same even- 
ing the ltetiro was invested, and 
the attack commenced the next day, 
when the garrison surrendered pri- 
soners by capitulation, to the sum- i 
ber of 2506 men, including 4,51 in 
hospital. We found in (he place, I 
2 eagles, 189 pieces of brass ord- I 
nance in excellent condition, 900 ! 
barrels of powder, 20,000 slaud of j 



arms, and immense magazines of 
clothing, ammunition, and provi- 
sions. Shortly after this, the gar- 
rison of Guadalajara (700 men) 
capitulated on the same terms to 
the Empecinado, whose corps ac- 
companied the march of the British 
army to the capital ; and Toledo 
has been taken possession of by 1]! 
Medico, another guerilla chief. The 
fugitive king, after hovering some 
days about Toledo, Aranjuez, and 
Ocana, in indecision whither to turn, 
broke tip with his army towards 
Valencia, to join Suchef. 



During Lord Wellington's ope- 
rations against Madrid, the French 
army of Portugal seems lo have suf- 
ficiently recovered to undertake a 
bold and rapid excursion along the 
north of the Douro, westward as 
far as Astorga. In the latter place, 
as well as in Zamora, Tore, and 
Tordcsillas, they had in their ilight 
left behind considerable garrisons, 
which, now that they felt a little 
more at ease, the French general 
resolved to recover. It does not 
exactly appear by the published 
portion of Lord Wellington's re- 
ports, what number of British troops 
his lordship left behind under Gen. 
Clinton, to cover his rear, as well 
as the country about Valladolid. 
All we have been able to ascertain 
is, that our troops were principally 
stationed at Cuellar, south of the 
Douro, not a man on the northern 
banks, the observation of which, 
together with the protection of Val- 
ladolid, was assigned to the Gaii- 
eian army under Gen. Santocildes. 
This disposition, allowing for the 
broken state of the French force, 
and supposing the Galieian corps 
ever so much to be depended upon, 



231 



RETROSPECT OF POLITICS. 



«eems to us to have been insufficient. 
Accordingly, on the 12(h Aug 1 , the 
enemy advanced with about 7000 
infantry and J.500 cavalry, from Pa- 
lencia towards Valladolid, which 
was only occupied by one batallion. 
General Santocildes, on their ap- 
proach, retired out of harm's way. 
The garrison of Tordesillas had for- 
tunately capitulated on (he 7th; 
but in his further progress, (he enemy 
recovered their garrison at Toro, 
the siege of which had been pre- 
viously abandoned, and moved to- 
wards Astorga : at Benevenie their 
cavalry came up with, and occa- 
sioned some loss to the Galician 
army ; but on reaching La Blancza, 
within a few leagues of Astorga, 
they heard that the garrison of the 
latter place (1200 men strong) had 
just surrendered ; and in conse- 
quence turned about toZamora, the 
garrison of which they likewise re- 
lieved, and then returned unmo- 
lested along the Douro to Vallado- 
lid, which city the latest accounts 
report still in their possession. 

This expedition does the enemy 
credit; and, if we may hazard an 
opinion upon the limited extent of 
our information, although Lord 
Wellington states that he expected 
the movement, there appears to us 
to have been means sufficient at our 
disposal to have prevented it at 
first, or when it had taken place, 
to have cut off the return of this fly- 
ing corps by the road of Valladolid 
at least. Indeed, were it not for the 
unbounded confidence which the 
transcendent military talents of our 
commander have raised in our breast, 
we should, however important the 
possession of Madrid (supposing it 
eventually secure and permanent, 
which we question,) may be, 
have entertained some doubts as to 



which of the two lines of operation 
was to be deemed the most eligible ; 
the road to Madrid, in pursuit of 
Joseph's 5 or 6000 French and a 
parcel of Juramentados, or the con- 
tinued pursuit of the remains of 
Marmont's army, pushing them as 
far north-east upon til** Pyrenees as 
possible, forming a junction on one 
side with the corps of Mendizabel, 
Longa, Renovates, and Porlier in 
Biscay, and on the other, with that 
of Mina in Navarre; and by these 
means not leaving behind the nu- 
cleus as it were of an army, to be 
easily reformed by reinforcements 
to be drawn from France, and, as is 
reported, actually in march under 
Massena. 



The junction wilh, and support 
of the corps of the different above- 
mentioned chiefs in Biscay, would 
have been an object the more desir- 
able, as, from the recent official 
reports of Colonel Carrol, they have 
proved themselves composed of dif- 
ferent mettle from what we have ob- 
served in the Galician troops. The 
French evacuated Bilboa on the 
11th August; but on the 13th, re- 
turned again, to the number of oOOO, 
under General Rouge t, to attack 
that city. A sharp affair en- 
sued on the 14th, between Bilboa 
and Zornosa, in which Renovales 
and Porlier defeated the French, 
compelled them to retreat precipi- 
tately, and advanced themselves as 
far as the latter town. On the 21st, 
Rouget once more appeared with 
the same design and with addition- 
al troops. A more obstinate and 
sanguinary conflict took place on the 
22d, nearly on the same ground, in 
which the Spaniards, even to the 
peasant levies, performed prodigies 
of valour, gained a complete vie- 



RETROSPECT OF POLITICS. 



235 



tory, and drove Rouget to tlic very 
gates of Durango. We arc, how- 
ever, not without apprehensions, 
that so near to France ami to the 
army of Portugal (at present un- 
employed), the French will have it 
in their power to return again and 
again to the charge with such over- 
whelming numbers, as to render all 
the bravery of the Spanish divisions 
in Biscay unavailing, and ultimate- 
ly to regain possession of the im- 
portant post of Rilboa. 

EAST OF SPAIN'. 
Battle of Castclla, 21 si July. 

Under this head we have to record 
a deplorable and disgraceful defeat 
of the Murcian army under Genera! 
O'Donnel. Whether it was in ex- 
pectation of a co-operation of the 
British expedition, or with what 
particular design, we know not, 
that army for the first time put itself 
in motion in the middle of July, 
being joined by the division from 
Alicant under Colonel Roche, and 
advanced towards the Xucar. At 
and about Castella they were met 
by a division of Suchet's army 
under General Harispe, on the 21st 
of July, and completely beaten and 
routed, with the exception of Co- 
lonel Roche's division, which re- 
treated with order and under less 
severe loss upon Alicant. Accord- 
ing to the official accounts laid 
before the Cortes, the loss of the 
Spaniards in this battle was as 
follows: — Killed 399, wounded 
464, prisoners 2SGj, totals whose 
disproportion of itself bespeaks the 
inefficient resistance made by our 
allies. This defeat has caused great 
sensation and debates in the assem- 
bly of the Cortes. O'Donnel has 
been removed from his command, 
and replaced by General Elio, whose 

No. XLVL Vol. VIII. 



resolute conduct at Montevideo pro- 
mises belter dispositions. 



"Why such a combined, or rather 
ill - combined, movement should 
have been undertaken before the 
arrival of the British expedition 
from Mahon, we are at a loss to con- 
ceive; for the statement of Stichet, 
that that expedition was on theL'Jst 
July off Culler;:, near the mouth of 
the Xucar, is probably incorrect, 
or at least what he took for the ex- 
pedition must have been but an in- 
considerable part of it. The move- 
ments of that armament altogether, 
from its arrival at Minorca in the 
lalier part of June, are involved in 
considerable and mysterious obscu- 
rity. All we know of it is, that it 
ultimately sailed from that inland at 
the latter end of July; that after 
having made demonstration off (he 
coast of Catalonia, it hauled its 
wind, steered south-west, and land- 
ed at Alicant on the 10th August, 
under General Maitland, who has 
reported his arrival officially to Lord 
Wellington at Madrid. 

In Catalonia, where principally the 
French were expecting the British 
expedition, the capture of the strong 
position of theconvent of Montserrat 
on the 28th July, by a corps sent 
from Barcelona, is stated by the 
French papers. The Spaniards ap- 
pear to have defended themselves 
obstinately, especially in the tort 
of Dimas ; but, in spite of their re- 
sistance, theenemy successively pos- 
sessed himself of all the eminences, 
and by reaching a point which com- 
manded the fort, forced the gar- 
rison, consisting of about 2bO men, 
including our active countryman 
Colonel Green, to surrender pri- 
soners of war. 
1 i 



236 



RETROSPECT OP POLITICS. 



SOUTH OF SPAIN. 
Railing of the Siege of Cadiz. 
Our list report loft General Bal- 
lasreros in a critical situation. Hi- 
activity, however, and the energy 
of his mind, have not only extri- 
cated him completely, but brought 
him back with laurels. He march- 
ed a division of his troops north- 
ward, entered Ossuna by surprise, 
who^e garrison and governor were 
roused from sleep by Spanish bay ■ 
onets. The loss of the enemy was 
groat, the governor and many of 
his men killed, 300 prisoners, GOO 
mules, and 300 horses taken. By 
this bold manoeuvre he re-opened 
his communication with Gibraltar, 
and returned to Ximenez on the 8th 
August. His skilful retreat, no 
doubt, was favoured by the debark- 
ation of 3000 men under General 
Cruz at Tan (fa. 



Another expedition of Spaniards, 
under Count Ponne Vttlaraur and 
Morillo, and of British troops under 
Colonel Skerrett, was sent westward 
from Cadiz, landed at Huelva on 
the 12ih, and took possession of 
Niebla on the 14th, the garrison of 
which had retired at the approach 
of the allies, leaving their guns 
spiked in the castle. 



February, 1810, look possession of 
• he French lines and forts, which 
blew up <>ne after another, and of 
he numerous artillery and stores 
which the French had left behind, 
partly destroyed and partly entire. 
\t Seville, Soult left all his maga- 
zines and sick, recommending both 
to the care of t he inhabitants, whom 
he consoled by the assurance of a 
speedy ret uro, themomenl he should 
have avenged the misfortunes of his 
countrymen in the north. 



On the 17th of August Soultbegan 
evacuating Seville, and from that 
day to the 21st the French army suc- 
cessively marched off on the road 
towards Cordova; and in the night 
between the 24th and 25th, and the 
25th in the morning, the siege, or ra- 
ther blockade of Cadiz, was likewise 
abandoned, the enemy withdrawing 
in the direction of Seville. On the 
26th the garrison of Cadiz, after 
being shut up ever since the 6th of 



From General Hill's army we 
have no event of importance to re- 
port. He was at Zafra ns late as 
(he 2ith of August; but would 
no doubt follow the movement of 
Soult's army in a parallel direction. 
Events of the gr afest importance 
must now necessarily take place in 
a short space of time, and we can- 
not conceal our apprehensions in 
regard to the safety of Madrid; 
when Soult shall have brought up 
his army in that direction. 

SPANISH COLONIES. 

The cause of the mother country 
has gained strength in the Caraccas 
ever since the destructive earth- 
quake. The government force has 
retaken Valencia, and General Mi- 
randa, in his attempt to dispossess 
them of it, has been completely 
routed. Porto - Cavallo, likewise, 
has surrendered to Gen. Monteveid, 
after an engagement of eight hours, 
in which the insurgent Gen. Bolivar 
was defeated,, and compelled to fly 
to La Guira. 



The warfare between the insur- 
gent junta of Buenos Ayres and the 
city of Montevideo still continues 
to a certain degree ; but recent 
accounts state the probability of its 



HE rilOSPECT OF POLITICS. 



237 



censing ns soon ns the Portuguese 
force shall have evacuated the 
Spanish territory, according to or- 
ders which ire said to have been 
dispatched from Rio Janeiro. 



Tn Mexico the interests of the 
insurgents appear to l>e duly de- 
clining. In the neighbourhood of 



temporary, opponents, so much so 
hat the balance of commercial 

!os, (Inis tar is probably against 
them. 

Uy land, too, hostilities have been 
tMit (in! upon on the pari of -Ame- 
rica. An American force, com- 
posed of the militia of the neigh- 
bouring stales, under the command 
of General Hull, passed ihe river, 



Vera- Cruz their army sustained 

a complete defeat by the royalists, II St. Lawrence on the night of the 



by which the communication be- 
tween that city and Mexico was 
restore I, and in consequence ot 
which their commercial intercourse, 
which had been in a languishing 
State, has revived. 

V N l T i: I) ST A I BS O V A M I UIC \ . 



I 1 1 1i July at the town of Sandwich, 
two miles below Detroit, the British 
outposts having been withdrawn 
before. On tnr loth the stand trd 
of the United States was erected in 
Canada, and a proclamation pub- 
lished, inviting the Canadian mili- 



The intelligence we have to*com- tin to retire to tbeir homes, :\v,<.\ pro- 
niunicate under this head is, we niising friendly treatment to the in- 
regret to say, of any hv.t a pacific habitants on condition of neutrality. 
nature. In consequence of the do- : Considerable fear seems to be enters 



clualion of war, Mr. Foster, our 
minister, has quitted America and 
arrived in England. Subsequently 
to his departure, the Gleaner ketch, 
which carried out the notification 
of the revocation of the Orders in 
Council, had arrived at New- York ; 



tained of the Indians joining our 
cause, and the proclamation de- 
clares, that in that event no quarter 
will be given. Tlw next operation 
is intended upon Fort Maiden, a 
work of considerable strengt h. I rom 
ail we can collect, the war with 



and it hasjust returned from thence, England is unpopular with the ma- 

withoiit bringing any intelligence as :j<>riiy of the respectable part of the 

to the effect which that conciliatory l American population, especially at 

measure on our part has had upon Boston and the northern states, v\lio 

the councils of the United States, : already have been, and are likely 

who, if report is to be believed, are hereafter to be, the greatest sufferers 

not likely to rest satisfied with that from it. Very strong resolul 

concession alone. ! have been passed a :;-:i i n>! i( by vari- 

ln the mean time active warfare ous meetings in the country; and 

has been commenced on the other at Baltimore a serious and sangninu- 

sideof the Atlantic. The American iy riot has taken place, greatly r> - 

frigates and privateers have made sembling the outrageous proi 

many captures of British vessels, ings of the Parisian Jacobins twenty 

and our cruizers at home and in the y ars ago. The friends of i ho 



neighbouring seas, as well as the 
squadron under Admiral Sawyer in 
Nova Scotia, have not been behind 



editor of the 

consisting ot about thirty persons 

of the highest character and respect- 



hand in retaliating upon our, we hope H ability , having fled fur security to 
\ I i 2 



258 



RETROSPECT OF POLITICS. 



the town gaol, were dragged out 
by an infuriated mob, and cruelly 
maltreated with clubs and knives, 
General Lingan killed, and General 
Lee with many others desperately 
wounded (28th July). 

RUSSIA AM) NORTH OF EUROPE. 

Bonaparte is penetrating with 
rapid strides into tlic heart of the 
Russian empire ; and if he meet 
with no more energetic resistance 
than hitherto, our next retrospect 
will certainly report him at Moscow- 
To render the various and compli- 
cated movements of his immense 
forces more distinctly intelligible, 
we shall divide our narrative into 
three heads, according to the three 
chief quarters which have at one 
and the same time been the scene of 
action ; viz. first, the operations of 
the principal French army, com- 
manded by Bonaparte in person, ad- 
vancing in the direction of Mos- 
cow; secondly, the events that oc- 
curred in the fear of his left, flank 
along the line of the Dwina ; and, 
thirdly, the warfare in the rear of 
his right flank about Slonim, and 
in the palatinate of Novogrodeck. 
Principal French Army. 
6n the 25th, 26th, and 27th July, 
a part of the Russian army main- 
tained a scries of sanguinary com- 
bats with some of the French divi- 
sions, whom they attacked at Os- 
trovno; the Russians maintained 
the field, and on the 28th both 
armies would probably have fought 
a general battle, but for the news 
arriving of the failure of Bagrathion 
to effect his junction by the way of 
Mohilow, where he attacked Da- 
voust on the 23d, but, in spite of 
his most vigorous efforts, found it 
impossible to penetrate, and cross- 
ed the Borysthenes at Bickov, tak- 



ing the road to Smolensk, where it 
was now agreed that the two ar- 
mies should ultimately join. This 
arrangement induced (he army of 
General Barclay de Tolly to leave 
Wilepsk, and Bonaparte entered 
the town on the 28<h. It being now 
no longer possible to impede the 
junction of the two Russian armies, 
Bonaparte established his head- 
quarters at Witepsk. where it con- 
tinued for a fortnight, while he or- 
dered the troops into u quarters of 
refreshment," reviewed and rccom- 
pleted successively the different 
corps, and sent his brother Jerome 
back to Cassel, by way of punish- 
ment fo. the ineffectual opposition 
made by him to the former attacks 
of Bagrathion's army. 

While the French head-quarters 
remained at Witepsk, General Se- 
bastiani's corps, which had been 
considerably it) advance, was fit- 
tacked and defeated by Platoff's 
cavalry. At Smolensk the long-. 
desired junction at length fook place, 
and our hopes became sanguine that 
now the French invader would have 
to feel the combined weight of this 
united mass of the Russian force. 
On the 12th the French army put 
itself in motion upon Smolensk, and 
Davoust crossed the Borysthenes on 
the 13th, in his operations against 
that town. At Krasnoy a partial 
affair occurred, on the 14tli, with a 
Russian corps, which was compelled 
to yield ; and on the 16th the French 
army arrived in sight of Smolensk, 
occupied by 30,000 Russians, but 
not otherwise supported by the bulk 
of the Moscovite army, although 
it was close at hand, and although, 
according to French reports, the 
situation offered a most advanta- 
geous position for a general action. 



RETROSPECT OF POMT1CS. 



23§ 



The town was bombarded and sol 
on fire on (lie 17th, and the suburbs 
attacked, but valiantly defended by 
the garrison ; but the town being 
completely in flames, was evacuated 
in flic night of the ISth. In this 
desperate conflict the French ac- 
knowledge the loss of 4000 men 
killed and wounded, General Gra- 
bouski among the former; while 
that of the Russians is stated by 
them at l.'i, 000 killed and wounded, 
and 2000 prisoners. 

The next day (19th) another bat- 
tle took place with the Russian rear- 
guard, near Valentina, contested 
with equal obstinacy ; since the loss 
the French acknowledge therein 
amounts to 3200 men hors de com- 
bat, including Gen. Gudin killed. 
After this, the Russians seem, ac- 
cording to the Trench accounts, to 
have continued their retreat on Mos- 
cow ; and the 15th French bulletin, 
which is dated 27th August, from 
Slawkovo, about 100 miles east of 
Smolensk, states the advanced guard 
to be close to VViasma, a town 
■which we reckon about 130 miles 
on this side of ?vloscow. 

It, is true the preceding details, 
as Cir back as the 12th of August, 
are, in default of Russian reports, 
selected from the French bulletins, 
and will of course be found greatly 
exaggerated ; but the map before 
us affords a lamentable proof of at 
least their topical correctness, and 
lowers considerably our hopes of a 
successful termination ofthe present 
campaign. 

Occurrences along the Dwina. 
The left flank of the army, under 
Bonaparte's immediate orders, is 
secured by two distinct inferior 
armies, one under Macdonald, com- 
prising the Prussian auxiliaries, 



near the mouth of the Dwina ; and 
another under Oudinot, higher up 

the river, towards the Drissa : the 
former having for its opponent the 
fortress of Riga and its garrison; 
and the latter the Russian General 
Count Wittgenstein, who, on (he 
march of the main army under 
Barclay de Tolly, was entrusted 
with the command of a separate 
army, to cover the road to Peters- 
burg. 

Of Ma cdon aid's army we have 
to relate no action of importance, 
except one fought, the I9(h July, 
on tiie Ekau, in Courland, between 
the Russians and the Prussians un- 
der General GrawCrt, who, after 
much bloodshed, succeeded, by a 
vast superiority of numbers, in 
> forcin.-r the Russians upon, and ul- 
timately across the Dwina. Since 
I that time Macdonald's army seems 
I to have had full occupation in keep- 
Ing in check the garrison of Riga, 
which is numerous, is commanded 
by the energetic General Essen, and 
is well assisted by a British flotilla 
under Admiral Martin. Dunabor^, 
which was evacuated by the Rus- 
sians, appears to have been entered 
by some of Macdonald's troops. 

The army of Oudinol, thanks to 
the activi<3 r of Count Wittgenstein, 
has had more arduous employment. 
By a bold march uponScbcsch, the 
French chief intended io cut off 
Wittgenstein from the road to Pe- 
tersburg, and place him between 
his army and that of Macdonald ; 
but the brave German, anticipating 
Oudinot's design, attacked him on 
the 30lh July. The battle was con- 
tinued the 31st anil 1st August, and 
a complete victory obtained over 
I the enemy, whose loss, besides kili- 
' cd and wounded, amounted to 3000 



240 



RETROSPECT OF POLITICS. 



prisoners, two pieces of cannon, 
and a vast quantify of baggage and 
ammunition. 

After this reverse, Oudinot, re- 
inforced by the Bavarian division 
iim ler General Wrede, and the 
Wurtemberg division, once more 
advanced upon the count, who had 
directed his march down the Dwina 
against Macdonald. As soon as the 
Russian commander heard of Oudi- 
nol's movement, he faced about, 
came np with, attacked and defeat- 
ed him, on the lOih August, at 
Koch a now, with considerable loss 
in killed, and 250 prisoners. 

A series of far more murderous 
conflicts, however, took place next 
between the same parties, near to 
Polotsk, on the 15lb, 16lh, and 
especially the 17lb, in which Ou- 
dinot himself was severely wound- 
ed, as also General Verdicr, and 
the Bavarian General Deroy, whose 
division had also come to the assist- 
ance of the French. On the latter 
day, the victorious Russian troops 
had pursued their enemy into the 
very streets of Polotz, fighting in 
the town till night put an end to the 
combat, and retiring from it with 
two lieutenant-colonels, 15 officers, 
and 500 men, as their prisoners. 
General Gouvion St. Cyr, assuming 
the command of the French, is, in 
their reports, slated to have renew- 
ed the combat the next day (18th), 
and to have repelled Count Witt- 
genstein to the distance of two 
leagues. 

Operations in the Vicinity of Slonim and 
JSovos.rod.eck. 

A Russian force under General 
Tormasofl* having collected from 
Volhynia, and threatened the duchy 
of Warsaw, Bonaparte sent back 
General Ilegnier to Slonim, in or- 



der to watch that point. But Tor- 
masoff was beforehand with him, 
and fell, on the 27th, at Kobryn, 
upon his advanced guard, composed 
of Saxons under General Klingel, 
who, after the loss of many men, 
was compelled to surrender himself 
and the remnant of his corps, con- 
sisting of 66 officers and 22^4 men, 
prisoners of war. 

Upon this serious reverse, Bona- 
parte sent his Austrian auxiliaries 
to restore matters, and gave to 
Prince Sch warzenberg, their gene- 
ral, the command in chief of the 
whole force in that quarter, includ- 
ing the troops untie* Hegnier. This 
army, so augmented, began its ope- 
rations soon after, and came into 
contact with Tormasoff's corps on 
the 10th August, on which clay and 
the llth, a severe contest ensued at 
and about Horodeczna, so much to 
the disadvantage of the Russians, 
now in their turn inferior in num- 
ber, that they were compelled to 
retire beyond Kobryn, with consi- 
derable loss, .but in the best order. 
The Russian army which served on 
the Danube against the Turks, is 
destined to act in conjunction with 
General Tormasoff, and has, ac- 
cording to unauthenticated reports, 
actually joined him. If so, a third 
army will thereby be formed on the 
side of Volhynia, equal in numbers 
to cither of the two great Russian 
armies, and capable of operating 
an important change in the aspect 
of the war, by advancing directly 
in the rear of Bonaparte's line of 
operations. 

Here we shall remark, by the 
way, that Mr. Liston, our minister 
at the Porte, arrived in Constanti- 
nople on the 2Sth June, and was 
received with the attention and re- 



RETROSPECT OF POLITICS. 



211 



spcct due to (he sovereign he repre- 
sents. 

SWEDEN AND DENMARK. 

The long-desired co-operation of 
the former country in the northern 
war is still delayed, owing, as it is 
stated, to the question of t lie extent 
of the British subsidies to be receiv- 
ed, not being definitively settled. 
The Swedish diet at Orebro was clos- 
ed on the 18th of August, and from 
the farewell addresses of both the 
King and the Crown-prince to the 
stales, we are not justified in con- 
sidering the armament of the new 
levies intended for any purpose be- 
yond that of putting the kingdom 
into a state of defence, to enforce 
respect from t lie neigh bou ring states. 
Denmark also is arming, but whe- 
ther it be in concert with Sweden, 
or out of a dread of the possibility 
of an attack from the latter power 
against Zealand, we know not. 



troops on board, has sailed from 
Malta for the Adriatic, and reached 
Lissa in July. Its destination was 
kept a profound secret ; but to ns 
two points alone appear likely to 
be in its contemplation : either the 
reduction of Corfu, or the assist- 
ance of the Dalmatians, who, it is 
known, have risen in powerful and 
determined insurrection against their 
oppressors, (he French. 

The latest intelligence from Sicily 
has brought advice of a most im- 
portant revolution effected in that 
island. The parliament, which had 
met at Palermo in July last, held 
its second sitting on the 20th of the 
same month ; when the nobility 
unanimously resolved, and declared 
with acclamation, that the feudal 
system should be abolished ; that 
they would give up all their privi- 
leges ; and that the peasantry and 
themselves should equally enjoy the 



The interview which has just j! same laws. They further pronounc- 
taken place between the Emperor ed the Sicilian constitution decayed, 

Alexander and the Crown-prince of 'i and passed a number of resolutions. 
Sweden, at Abo, in Finland (27th ; which may be regarded as the out- 
to 31st August), will probably line of a new constitution quite si- 
decide the line of conduct hence- J milar to that of Great Britain. Their 
forth to be adopted by the latter, i parliament is to be divided into two 
Lord Cat heart attended the import- ! chambers, of lords and clergy, and 
ant conferences of the two princes, ' of commons; to be exclusively vest- 
Mid report states, that his assurance ed with the power of making laws 
of a large subsidy from Great Bri- '•. and raising taxes : the executive 
tain, has induced the Crown-prince \\ power is to rest with the king ; the 
to promise immediate, active, and ! administration of justice to be con- 
powerful co-operation on the shores j! ducted by magistrates independent 
of the Baltic. He was received by j of the crown, and appointed for 
the Czar with the highest marks of life, &c. In addition to these pro- 
distinction, and decorated with the ceedings, the parliament declared 
orders of St. Andrew, St. Alexan- ;j itself permanent until the constilu- 
dcr Newski, and St. Anne. tion should be formed; and Lord 

mediterranean and sicif.Y. !| W. Beutinck is reported to have 
An armament of considerable been appointed lord chancellor. — 
magnitude, under Admiral Free- The queen, who had hoped for are- 
mantle, with some thousands of II establishment of her authority, cam« 



242 



DESIGN FOlt A VERANDAH. 



to Palermo the next morning ; but 
on hearing of the great change that 
had taken place, she immediately 
returned in dusgust to the country. 

This revolution, brought abont j 
without violence, and by the nobi- ! 
lily themselves, who probably are j 
the greatest losers by it, holds out ; 
the brightest prospects of amelio- • 
ration to a country which once was j 
opulent and powerful, and which 
bids fair to recover thereby its for- 
mer importance, and to form, by 
its alliance with Great Britain, a 
momentous accession of strength to 
our own empire. May the nations 
of enslaved Europe take an example 
from the fate of Portugal, of Spain, 



and of Sicily, and reflect, that the 
fostering arm of England, the sheet- 
anchor of the liberty of the world, 
is alone capable of restoring them 
from their degradation and oppres- 
sion to the happiness they enjoyed 
before. Let the events before their 
eyes teach them, that while the 
touch of Gallic embrace, like the 
poison-tree, spreads its destructive 
blast in every direction, the power- 
ful, but mild and beneficent protec- 
tion of England, like vernal sun- 
shine, sheds genial warmth and pro- 
sperity over the existence of mil- 
lions of their more fortunate fellow- 
beings. 



Plate 25.— DESIGN FOR A VERANDAH. 



The engraving which accom- | 
panies this article, represents a j 
Verandah adapted to a balcony, as i 
nn useful and ornamental appen- ' 
dage to a London dwelling. No I 
decorations have so successfully va- i 
ried the dull sameness of modern 
structures in the metropolis, as the 
verandah, the lengthened window, : 
and the balcony ; they have pro- 
duced an intrinsic elegance, and \ 
have done much to overcome the 
architectural prejudice supported in 
this country by the students of, 
Alberti, Palladio, and the enthu- 
siasts of every thing Italian in de- 
sign, who very un philosophically ' 
adopted the proportion of win- 
dows applicable to a clear and warm 
climate, in one not quite so liable 
to the troublesome effects of light 
&u<\ heat. The verandah would 
1(, » a«io have taken a substantial 
i I architectural character, but that ! 
an act of parliament is more than I 



impliedly fatal to the erection of 
them in streets and squares ; but 
the magistrates, and indeed the 
surveyors of the districts, with 
much good sense, have hitherto 
permitted them to be projected in 
the light manner in which this de- 
sign bespeaks them to be executed. 
They are sometimes made of metal 
in this character, and it would be 
incongruous to give them a more 
solid appearance, where a seeming- 
ly adequate support could not be 
erected from beneath. It is not 
improbable, that at some future day 
the verandah and piazza will form 
a considerable architectural beauty 
in this metropolis, and that they 
will be constructed in a way suit- 
able to the nature of our climate. — 
No colour is so proper for this sort 
of verandah as the bronze, as it 
assumes a substantial, though light 
appearance : every other colour be- 
speaks it of wooden construction, 



AGRICULTURAL nCPOUT. 



24' 



and is offensive to (he eye of taste. 
The Verandah is of Eastern and 
of very ancient origin. 

The balcony, which is an essen- 
tial part of this verandah, is so (.di- 
ed from the French, balcon. Amongst 
the ancients a railing of protection 
was called baiustrum ; by the 
French, balustre ; by. ourselves, 
balluster ; and by corruption, ban- 
nister. Notwithstanding the orna- 
mental elegance of the balcony, 
some objections have been made to 
the erection of them in London. 
It is reported, that Mr. John Ban- 
nister, being ignorant of this law of 
the higher powers, projected a bal- 
cony, or gallery as it is now called, 
from the front of his house in Gower- 
street. A committee of remonstrance 
immediately waited upon him, with 



the provoking information, that it 
would be very propel to take it 
down again, as none were permit- 
ted in that street; assuring him, 
that it stood in jeopardy from 
an act of parliament calied the 
Building Act. — " ( I'enllemen," said 
the intelligent humourist, " I am 
unacquainted with acts of parlia- 
ment, and all other acts, except, 
indeed, the rive acts of a play ; and 
after so many flattering marks of 
public approbation, I am shocked 
at last to learn that there is any 
act so fatal io the Bannisters." 
The matter was urged no further — 
it is at this moment the only gallery 
in Gower-street. 

The engraving is from a design 
by Mr. John Fapworlb, the archi- 
tect. 



MEDICAT 

An account of the practice of a phy- 
sician from the 15th of August to the 
15th of September, 1812. 

Acute diseases. — Phrenitis, 1... .Scarlet 
fever and sore-throat, 2.... Measles 1.... 
Small -pox, I ...Erysipelas, 2... Lever, 2... 
Croup, 1 ....Cholera, 2.... Acute rheuma- 
tism, 2. ..Acute diseases of infants, 4. 

Chronic diseases. — Asthma, L-....M;i- ! 
r asm us, 1... Pulmonary consumption, 1... 
Cough and Dyspnoea, 13. ..Asthma, 1... 
Pleurodyne, 1,.. Cephalalgia, 2.. .Hydro- 
cephalus, 1... Paralysis, 1... .Dropsy, 3... 
Dyspepsia, 9....Gastrodynia, 8....Entero- 

dynia, 1 Diarrhoea, 3....Worms, 2 

UutanousalVections, j. .. Chronic rheuma- ; 
>:sm, 6... Rheumatic gout, 1... Jaundice, 1 
...Female complaints, -1. 



KEPORT. 

I The number of acute diseases in our 
! present list is not great. A tew bout! 
complaints have occurred, but with leas 
severity than is often the case at this sea- 
son of the year. The rheumatic aiiec- 
tions also have been slight. In one in- 
stance of acute rheumatism, the utility oi 
sudorifics was very evident. The patient 
was apprehensive of the complaint affect- 
ing the stomach, having on a former oc- 
casion suffered severely from cranio or 
spasm in tint Organ dining an attack of 
rheumatism. She, therefore, applied for 
advice on the first accession of the dis- 
ease, and presently experienced great 
relief from a saline medicine, with Do- 
ver's powder, due atUitiun bun..| :i!j ;o 
(he slate of the bowel . 



AGRICULTURAL lH-PORT. 



.No harvest for many years has been 
better secured, or more productive. The 
dry, warm weather through the whole of 
last month, has greatly facilitated the 
labours of the field. The new wheats 
yield well, and the grain is of prime 

No. XLVJ. Vol. VIII. 



quality, full of farina, and covered with 
a thin skin, and one jointly produces 
a very small portion of bran, when com- 
pared with the wlieat of last year. — Bar- 
ley has risen heavy to the cart, consider- 
ing the great bulk of straw. The corn 

K it 



244 



FIGURES FOR LANDSCAPES. 



is of a strong malting quality, but not so 
fine on the skin as in some preceding 
years. It handles warm, but rattier rough 
in the feel. The yield to the acre is ex- 
pected to be more than an average crop. 
— Oats are of 3 strong quality, and great 
yield. — Beans, peas, and the- whole of the 
leguminous tribe, are of prime quality, 
.perfectly free from the grub, and contain 



but a very small proportion of abortive 
kids, from which they will be more pro- 
ductive than for many years. The straw 
is large, and being well harvested, will 
produce a large store of winter food fop 
the farm-yard. — The lattermath clovers 
have headed well, and promise a good 
crop of seed if the weather continues 
favourable. 



Plates 23 and 24.— FIGURES FOR LANDSCAPES. 



It has been suggested to the pro- 
prietor of the Repository, a work 
principally dedicated to the service 
of the ladies, that it might be ac- 
ceptable to bis subscribers, many 
of whom practise the elegant art of 
drawing, if a plate were to be in- 
troduced in eaeli number for the 
advancement of the study thereof. 

In deference to this suggestion, he 
has made an arrangement for that 
purpose, and commences this month 
with groups of figures for the em- 
bellishment of landscape scenery, 
which he presumes will be found 
useful, not only for that purpose, 
but as they will be etched from the 
life, may serve as lessons for the 
young student to enlarge with chalk, 
or lead-pencils, which will afford 
good practice,, and lead to the power 
of drawing similar groups from 
u a hire.. 

Thesu-bjrets will comprise groups 
of horses, sheep, oxen r carts, wag- 
gons, boats, and every accompani- 
ment for landscape, river, and sea- 
coast views. A series of coloured 
plates of landscape and cottage 
scenery will also be introduced, 
in imitation of the most admired 
works of Glover, Nicholson, Pyne, 
Chalon, Hills, Dewint, Samuel, 
Pugiu, Turner, Reinagle, and other 
eminent professors of painting in 
water-colours; with an essay upon 
drawing, including observations on 
the processes of the various masters. 



Such a plan it is hoped will meet 
(he favour of his subscribers, as it 
is intended not only to afford amuse- 
ment to such as may be advanc- 
ed ii> the art of drawing, but in- 
struction to those whose residence 
in remote parts of the country may 
preclude them from the advantages 
resulting from the attendance of a 
professional teacher. 

The figures in the accompanying 
plates represent groups of gleaners 
arid shepherds. The gleaners may 
be appropriated to the embellish- 
ment of various landscape subjects, 
either in a field, in a lane, or imme- 
diately before a cottage; for being 
attired in the rustic costume, they 
will suit any picture of the com- 
mon pastoral character. The same 
groups, by a trifling variation of 
their employments, may be made 
subservient to a picture represent- 
ing any season of the year. If a 
winter scene, bundles of sticks may 
be substituted for the corn. The 
practice of appropriating figures by. 
variations thus simple, affords to- 
artists the readiest means for com po- 
sition. The groups of shepherds, 
by similar variations, as leaving out 
their crooks, or by substituting some 
other rural appendage, may be 
made to serve for the embellishment 
of various scenes, either as travel- 
lers upon a road, or the same re- 
posing upon the banks of a gree» 
| lane, or other sequestered spot. 




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246 
METEOROLOGICAL JOURNAL for August, 1812. 

Conducted, at Manchester, by Thomas Hanson, Esq. 



Temperature. 



Wind 



— Weather. 



AUG. 



I\hix. I Min. I Mean. I Max. I Min. \ Mean. 



c 



1 

2 
3 
4 

5 
6 

7 

8 

9 
lo 
11 
12' 
13 
14 
15 
j6 
17 

18 

19 

2» 
21 
22 
23 
24 
2.3 
20 
27 
28 

%9 

30 
31 



S 

s 

s 
s 

N 

N 

s vv 

s w 
s w 

N E 

s 
s 

N 

s 
s 
s 

Var. 
S VV 
S 

S 

w 

N "■ 



l 

l 
l 

2 
1 
2 
1 

S 1 

N W l 
S 2 
S W i 
N W l 
N 2 
N E 3 
N E 2 
N l 



29,80 
29.80 
29,80 
29,80 
3 Mo 
30,25 
30,oo 
00,00 
30,00 
30,00 

30,13 

30,20 
30,2/ 
30,27 
30,27 
3f),08 
30.10 
30,0 i 

29,75 
29.9S 
29,98 
29,95 
29,95 

30,05 
30,15 
30,08 
30,15 
30,25 
30,25 
30,30 
30,27 



?9,7« ' 

29,78 I 

29,75 

29,75 ! 

29,80 
30,06 

29,9"' 
29,95 
29,98 
30,00 

3:;, 00 

30.15 
30,21 

30,19 

3::, 03 
30,05 

30,03 
29.75 
29,45 
2;), 7 5 

1 29,75 
29,73 

; 29 '. 7 
i 29,77 

3 1,08 

: 30,1,0 

: 30,08 

; 89, 1 5 

i 29,25 

I 29,25 

29,25 



29,790 1 

29,790 

29,775 

29,775 

29,950 

3o,125 

29,975 

29,975 

29,990 

30,000 

30,0/5 

30,175 

30,235 

30,230 

30,175 

30,o65 

30,075 

; 

29,600 

29,365 

29,855 

29 s '^> 
29,860 
29,910 
3o,l !5 
30,040 
30,1 15 
30,200 
30,250 
30,275 
3o,200 



66,0" 
71,0 

72,0 

78,0 
62,0 

63,0 
63,0 
6l,0 

66,0 
62,0 

63,0 
69,o 
68,0 
71,0 
73,0 
66,0 
72,0 
80,0 
73,0 
71,0 
71,0 
6/,0 
66,0 
66,0 
70,0 
68,0 
66,0 
58,0 
63,0 
60,0 
6l,0 



59,o 

5 2,0 
51,0 

50,0 
49,0 

5 2,0 
50,0 

48,0 

50,0 

43,0 

47,0 

50,0 

5 1 ,0 

56,0 

55,0 

50,0 

56,0 

6o,0 

5 ,0 

57,0 

5-1,0 

54,0 

54,0 

50,0 

45,o 

47,0 

47,0 

48,0 

54,0 

51,0 



59,50 = 
65,00 
|65,00 
: 64,50 
50,00 
1 56,00 
57,50 
[55,50 
57,00 
156,00 

155,50 

58,00 
59,00 
61,-00 
64,50 

'60,50 

61,00 

j68,oO 

66,50 

03,50 
64,00 
6o,5G 
60,00 
60,00 
[60,00 
56,50 
'50,50 
52,50 
55,50 
j57,00 

56,00 



fine 

line 

gloomy 

brilliant 

gloomy 

fine 

gloomy 

gloomy 

brilliant 

gloomy 

gloomy 

brilliant 

fine 

brilliant 

brilliant 

gloomy 

briliia t 

brilliant 

b. illiant 

fine 

gloomy 

fi n< 

rainy 

fine 

fine 

brilliant 

fine 

ti n e 

fine 

fine 

fine 



Evap. Ram 



.960 



.970 1,430 



Mean 30,010 



Mean 59,54 



J 2,680| 1,430 

RESULTS. 

Mean barometrical pressure, 30 010 — maximum, 30.27, wind S. 1 — minimum, 29-45, wind 

S. 2 — Range .82 of an ineb. 

Tbe greatest variation of pressure in 2\ hours, is 45 of an inch, which was on the 191b. 

Mean temperaturCj"59°.54.-Maximiim l so° wind S. W.i — Minimum 47- wind S. l-~Range 33. 

The greatest var atiofi of temperature in 24 hours is 27°, which was on tbe 4th. 

Spaces described by the barometer, 3,80 inches — Number of changes, 12. 

Quantity of water evaporated irom a surface of water, exposed to tbe action of the sun's rays 

and wind, 2.680 inches. 
Raiu, &c this mouth, 1430 inches. — Number of wet days, 1 — Total raiu this year, 28.330 in. 

WIND. 
N N E E S E S S W W N W Variable. Cairn. 

5 3 13 5 1 3 1 O 

Brisk winds 1 — Boisterous ones 0. 



Prides of Fire->Office 9 Mine, Dock, Canal, Wafer- Work a, Brewery 
and Public Institution Shares, S,c. Sfc. for September, 1812 

Albion Fire and Life Ass. 

Globe 

Royal Exrbange 

London Doc!; 



West India litto 
CIil !sea Water- Works 
Eai t London Ditto 
Kent Ditto 
W> I Middlesex Ditto 
Gran 'unction Canal 
I i njingharo Canal 
II u IdersfieW Di:io 

WOLFE & Co. 9, 




Kennet and Avon Canal 
Lancaster Ditto 
Rochdale Ditlo 
Monmouthshire Ditto 
Grand Trunk 
Wilts and Berks 
Leicester . •" 

London Institution 
Surry Ditto 
Hits sell Litto 
Commercial Road 



£25 10s persb, 
23 do. 

39 
105 
1070 

19 'OS, 
215 



75 gs. 
£15 
18 gs. 

£ no 



do. 
do. 
do. 
do. 
do. 
do. 
do. 
do. 
do. 



Change-Alley, Cornhill, $ 



FORTUNE & Co. 13, Cornhill- 



247 



MKTE0110L0GICAI, JOURNAL for August, 1812. 

Conducted by .1//'. J. Gibson, Laboratory, Stratford, Essex. 



18)9 


FPhld. • 


Prtuui 


'• 


15 


.'/,>. , ature. 


Weather. 


J: raj). 


limn. 


A G 


Mat 


(Tin. 


' 1 1 


Max. 1 


Win. 1 


Meun. 


1 


Var. j 


89,8fi 


89,80 




64° ' 


55« 


50,,- 


cloudy 





- 


g 


N E 


■.'(», hii 


89,80 


89,830 


6g 


55 


b.>,o 


cloudy 


— 




3 


Var. 


89,83 


29,80 




69 


52 


60,5 


cloudy 


— 


— 


4 


h E 


89,90 


19,85 


29,875 


70 


52 


61,0 


rainy 


— 


.37 


5 


s w 


29,95 


89 90 


29,925 


58 


51 


54,5 


rainy 


•29 


■27 


b 


Var. 


30,00 


89,95 


29 975 


63 


49 


5*5,0 


rainy 


— 


1,39 


Q 7 


N \V 


.: i,oo 


89,95 


89,975 


64 


49 


50,5 


cloudy 


— 




s 


N vV 


19,96 


_'",'i 1 


29,950 


58 


5_> 


55,0 


cloudy 


.17 


— 


9 


,N H 


89,97 




89,965 


58 


47 


52,5 


cloudy 






la 


N W 


29,97 


29,96 


s 


66 


54 


57,0 


cioudy 


— 


— 


1 1 


Var. 


30,07 


29,96 


3.i,Oi5 


64 


50 


57,0 


cloudy 


— 


— 


12 


N B 


30J1 4 


30,07 


30,105 


59 


46 


5_\5 


cloudy 


.18 




J.: 


N 


30,15 


30,14 


30,145 


l,S 


44 


56,0 


fi ne 


— 




u 


N E 


30,15 


30,12 


.; ,! 15 


69 


50 


•"",',5 


fine 


— 




<l 5 
10 


E 


3 , 1 a 


30,07 


30,095 


7« 


55 


iij,o 


tine 


— 




E 




30,05 


30,055 


75 




66,6 


fine 


.34 





17 


s E 


30,05 


89,9a 


30,0 15 


77 


54 


65,5 


fine 


— 




IS 


8 B 


89,98 


29,76 


89,870 


*s 


01 


7-:," 


tine 


— 




•<) 


S W 


89 LIO 


29,76 


29,860 


77 


56 


00,5 


tine 


,56 


.OS 


2o 


\V 


30,00 


89,98 


29,990 


76 


57 


66,5 


tine 


— 




21 


s \v 


89,97 


89,94 




is 


59 


68,5 


cloudy 


— 


_ 


22 


\v 


30,05 


29,97 


30,010 


70 


56 


63,o 


fair 


— 




23 


sw 


30,04 


29,*b 


29,950 


74 


62 


63,0 


cloudy 


.66 




24 


s w 


30,10 


89,86 




70 


49 


59,5 


fine 


— 


74 


2.', 


s vv 


30,10 


30,04 


30,070 


71 


53 


62,0 


fine 


— 




20 


N W 


3o,04 


89,96 


30,000 


70 


53 


6 1 ,5 


tine 


.35 




'-'7 


IS \V 


■jo.uo 


89,96 


29,975 


69 


51 


60,0 


cloudy 


— 




88 


N w 


29,99 


29,98 


29,985 


59 


48 


53,5 


cloudy 


— 


1 . — 


) 89 


N W 




2f),9« 


29,985 


55 


51 


53,0 


showery 


— 


1 -21 


an 


.\ 


30, 1 


89,99 


30,015 


03 


53 


58,0 


showery 


— 


| .38 


.. 


N 


30,15 


30,04 


30,09-, 


62 


4S 


55,0 


cloudy 


.43 




1 


Mean 


29,981 


."• r<jfljj 


60,0 


In a I 


2,98M 


. 2,84(/i. 



RESULTS — Prevailing winds, westerly. — Mean height of barometer, 29.9s 1 iach.es — ther- 
mometer, 60*. — Total of evaporation 2,98 inches. — Rain 2,84 inches — iu another guagc 
2,84 niches. 

Note$. — 4th Rainy afternoon — 5th, Rainy morning. — 6th. Day gloomy — ahout four o'clock 
P. M. a very heavy shower of rain commenced, which continued for ahout twenty minutes. 
then abated for a Bhort tunc — again increased, and continued all the evening, with some 
thunder and lightning — the quantity of rain which fell amounted to 1,39 inch; at Plaibtoi 

/ * . ... L... . 1 1. I •... * A it ,.-.'. \ naiMM^ I i i .. I M .i ■■■ ii... ..U> i.l.ll.w i. .. : I .1 * : . .. . L 



liiiiuiii i .iii'i ii^uiiiui^ , >«,. >|m..iiii. > 1,1 lain « i,n ,■ n. > , *nn,i unn_,i n» l,.»'i MICH : ill I la.MOW 

[two units distant) it on l\, measured .4 1 in. — barometer nearly stationary nil the time. — i:sth 
Foggy morning — a stratus on the marshes at night. — 14th. Foggy morning. — 17th. Poggi 
morning — a lunar halo at night — 18th. Some lightning during the night. — 24th. Clear inowo- 

light night. — sath. Very boisterous oigbt. — SOlh. Very showery day. 






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TH1 



afcepogttorp 



OP 



ARTS, LITERATURE, COMMERCE, 

Manufactures, Fashions, and Politics y 

For NOVEMBER, 1812. 
VOL. VIII. 



%ty jFortrvscbenrtj jmrnber. 



EMBELLISHMENTS. page 

1. View of George-Street, Hanover-Square .... 250 

2. the New Theatre, Driry-Lane ..... 287 

3. Candelabrum, Table, and Footstool ..... 289 

4. Ladies' Evening Dress ......... -301 

5. ' Parisian Opera Dress ....... ib. 

6. Allegorical Wood-Cut, with Patterns of British Manufactures 304 

7. Patterns for Needle-Work ....... ib. 



CONTENTS. 






Conversations on the Arts, by Juninus 249 
Description of George-Street, Hano- 
ver-Square 256 

Observations on the Rise and Pro- 
gress of Painting in Water-Colours 257 
The Modern Spectator, No. XX. . 261 
On the Original Inventor of the Te- 
lescope, by Knlzcbue .... 265 
Fragments and Anecdotes. — M. 
d'Apchon, Archbishop of Auch 
— Vanity Punished — Voltaire — 
The White Rabbit — Associations 
of Ideas — M.vonllaller — Female 

Revenge 267 

On the Incongruities of Modern 

Architecture 271 

Account of Zeiah Colburn, an ex- 
traordinary Child 273 

On Commerce, No. XXIV. . . .27 4 
Admiral Troubridge and Piranesi . 276 
Intelligence Literary, Scientific, &c. 277 
Musical Review. — Mugnie's L'Of- 
frandc a Plnnocence — Russell's 
Twelve Voluntaries — Bishop's 
" Oh say, my sister" — Bishop's 
Mariner's Adieu — Bryan's " Ah ! 
'tis Love" — Valentine's Move- 
ment and Rondo — Guest's Rondo 
for the Piano-Forte — Knvvett's 



PAGE 



Philly and Willy— Wall's Sonatas 
— Lanza's " Here awa there awa" 
— Jay's Synfonie — Dahmen's 
Three Themes — Corri's Select 
Irish, Scottish, and Welch Melo- 
dies — Steibelt's Pot-pourri — Mo- 
zart's Colombo — Mozart's Oh 

Cara Armonia 281 

Historical Sketch of Drury-Lane 

Theatre 287 

Fashionable Furniture 289 

Retrospect of Politics. — Spain — 
Northern Provinces — East and 
South of Spain — Spanish Colonies 
— Extinction of the Republic of 
Venezuela — Russia and North of 
Europe — Sweden — -United States 
of North America — Mediterra- 
nean — Domestic Intelligence . . 290 

Fashions for Ladies 301 

Medical Report 303 

Agricultural Report 304 

Allegorical Wood-Cut, with Pat- 
terns of British Manufactures . ib. 

London Markets 305 

Meteorological Table — Manchester 306 
Prices of Companies' Shares . . ib. 
Meteorological Table — London . 307 
Prices of Stocks ...... 308 



Persons who reside abrosul, and who wisli to be supplied with this Work every Month as 
published, may have it sent to them, free of Postage, to New- York, Halifax, Quebec, and 
to any Part of the West Indies, at £% J2s. per Annum, by Mr. Thorshill, of the General 
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any Part of ihe Mediterranean, at £4 l^s. per Annum, by Mr. Sekjkant, of the General 
Post-Office, at No. jj, Sherborne- lane ; and to the Cape "of Good Hope, or any part of tbe 
Bast Indies, by Mr Guv, at the East-India House. The money to be paid at the time of 
subscribing, for either 2, 6, 9, or u mouths. 



TO OUR READERS AND CORRESPONDENTS- 



We earnestly solicit communications (post paid) from the professors of the arts in 
general, as well as authors, respecting works which they may have in hand. We con-' 
eeive that the evident advantage which must accrue to both from the more extensive 
publicity that ivill be given to their productions through the medium of the Repository, 
needs only to be mentioned, to induce them to favour us with such information, which 
shall always meet ivith the most prompt attention. 

The Proprietor of the Repository of Arts begs leave to announce to the Patrons 
of that work, that he has been favoured by an eminent architect, much consulted for 
his taste in the internal decoration of noblemen's and gentlemen's seats, with a Set of 
Designs for the Furnishing of a Mansion erected in the Gothic Style. These designs 
will appear monthly in the Repository, in a series, comprising the furniture of a 
library, drawing-rooin, hall, fyc. accompanied with a treatise on the fitness of inter- 
nal decorations to the general plan of the building. The series will be succeeded with 
similar designs for the decorations of the cottage ornee, and some practical remarks 
«n landscape gardening. 

It was our intention to have introduced two plates of Rustic Figures in the pre- 
sent number ; but, at the request of many of our subscribers, we have given a per- 
spective View of the New Drury-Lane Theatre. 

In the next number will be inserted a coloured plate, from a beautiful drawing 
by John Varley, together with tivo plates of Rustic Figures, in addition to the other 
graphic ornaments. 

To our poetical correspondents we are under the necessity of repeating the apo- 
logy which we made last month ; but they may depend on the insertion of their favours 
as early as possible. 

In Horatio's communication, the puff direct is rather too glaring. In another 
form it might be admitted into our advertising sheet. 

Several articles of literary information arrived too late for insertion in out 
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We beg leave to remind such of our Readers as have imperfect sets of the Repo- 
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per Volume. 



THE 



3kejpo6ttorp 



OF 



ARTS, LITERATURE, COMMERCE, 

Manufactures , Fashions^ and Politics, 

For NOVEMBER, 1812. 

SE&c jForttvo'cfemtlj .Ountlrr. 



-The suffrage of tlic wise, 



The praise that's worth ambition, is atlaiu'd 
By sense alone, and dignity of mind. 

AlUIBTRON'C. 



CONVERSATIONS ON THE ARTS.— By Juninus. 

(Continued from p. 1 92. ) 

Miss Eve. Suppose you (ell me ! by Rabbins $ and (hat (here li((Te 
something about the other humor- piece by Gilbert Durcr." 
ous designers in your list. Do you J Their Majesties some years since 
know any thing of Loutherbourg ? , passing through (he place incog, 



Miss K- Your mention of Lou- 
therbourg reminds me of an old wo- 
man who one day shewed me and 



and being desirous of viewing this 
collection, stopped, and were high- 
ly amused by (he misnomers of this 



my aunt some pictures in thecoun- j old hospitable housekeeper, who 
(ry at Saltram. "That there pic- I took them for a private gentleman 
(ure above the chimbley," said she, [ and his wife. Proceeding with her 
"is the worrying of Acton by his explanations, "That (here," said 
own dogs, -who took him for a deer; i she, "is a whole-length of hid most 
painted by Miss Angelica Cockney. I gracious Majesty King George (he 
On the right is a portrait of my ; First; and that is his Majesty King 
Lord's grandmother, by one D //!;<-. \ George the Second." The king and 
On the left is my late Lady, by Sir his consort were highly delighted ; 
Joseph Rowlandson, who was born and the queen, patting her good- 
at Plympton. That landscape near naturcd husband on the shoulder, 
the door is painted by Leathering, continued, "And this is a whole- 
The Holy Family by Ralph Hall, \ length of his Majesty King George 
cost five hundred guineas. This the Third." — But v>>u were askin^ 
here hunting the wild beastesscs is {] about. Loutherbourg. 
i\ T o. XLFII. Vol. VIIL L l 



250 



CONVERSATIONS ON THE ARTS. 



Philip James dc Loutherbourg, 
R. A. etched many humorous prints 
for his amusement from his own de- 
signs, drawn with great taste. He 
•was born, in the same year with our 
king, at Strasburg, in Alsace: his 
father was a miniature-painter. He 
was pupil to Boucher and Casanova, 
and master to the late Sir Francis 
Bourgeois. Jack Bannister, the ac- 
tor, studied some time under Lou- 
therbourg, intending, in his early 
youth, to follow the profession of 
painting. Henderson, Parsons, John 
Palmer, Pope, and some other first- 
rate theatrical performers, seem to 
have had the same views, and evinc- 
ed no inconsiderable talent for the 
arts. 

Loutherbourg was engaged by 
Garrick to design and conduct the 
paintingof the scenes at Drury-Lane 
Theatre, in which he eminently ex- 
celled ; also in raising storms of 
thunder, lightning, wind, rain, &c. 
as in the Tempest, King Lear, and 
Macbeth. lie also produced very 
brilliant moonlights, as in Romeo 
and Juliet, the Merchant of Ve- 
nice, &c. After this Loutherbourg 
contrived a curious exhibition, for 
which he engaged Mrs. Baddely, 
whose vocal powers greatly height- 
ened the entertainment, which 
chiefly consisted of a grand display 
of scenic magnificence. This cir- 
cumstance is mentioned by Mrs. 
Steel in her Memoirs of Mrs. Bad- 
dely. In this piece was represented 
the approach of evening ; sunset; 
the rising of the moon, which after 
some time passed under a dark 
cloud ; also of the stars ; then rain 
and wind; distant thunder and the 
approaching storm; thunder and 
lightning, which passed off by de- 
grees, and the whole became ob- 



scured in midnight darkness. Then 
followed the gradual coming-on of 
morning; the dawn of day; the 
amber tinge, the small, rosy, dap- 
pled clouds, and the beautiful gra- 
dations which sometimes precede 
the appearance of the sun ; then the 
rising of that luminary, which Mil- 
ton characterizes as 

Ilob'd in flames and amber light; 
The clouds in thousand liveries dight : 
While the ploughman near at hand 
Whistles o'er the furrow'd land, 
And the milkmaid singeth blithe, 
And the mower whets his scythe, 
And the shepherd tells his tale 
Under the hawthorn in the dale. 

Then were exhibited various rural 
employments — the ploughman, the 
milk-maid, the mower, the girl at 
her spinning-wheel, the country 
waggon with the team and bells, 
hay -making, the shepherd and 
shepherdess, &c; while the birds, 
those winged musicians, warbled 
their early, sprightly notes, inter- 
mingled with the sound of the hunts- 
man's horn. These various scenes 
are surveyed by the contented pea- 
sant and his family at his cottage 
door. 

Miss Eve. This contented cot- 
tager brings to my mind the follow- 
ing passage of one of our poets: 

— Lift's but a short chace, the game Content, 
Which most pursued is most compell'd to fly; 
And he that mounts him on the swiftest hope, 
Shall often run his courser to a stand ; 
While the poor peasant, on some distant hill, 
UndangerM and at ease, views all the sport, 
And sees Content take shelter in his cottage. 

Miss IT. Loutherbourg was, like 
other men of genius, somewhat ec- 
centric. A few years ago, it is said, 
he undertook to cure incurable com- 
plaints. There is a caricature that 
ridicules this pretension. The 
scene of the print is laid at his house 



CON VERSA I'lO.N'S OH THE ART8. 



251 



ut HammcKsinitli -Terrace. Some 
persons who have come for relict", 
iire sitting on a bench in lite back- 
ground, one without his head, and 
others afflicted with losses equally 
severe. The principal figure is 
Pitt, who is brought in closely wrap- 
ped up for the gout; on which the 
painter declares, that he is a patient 
beyond his art to cure, and that he 
could as soon animate the canvas as 
make a man of William Pitt. — II is 
Storm by Smith ; his Siege of la- 
leneientiee by Bromley ; the Baltic 
of the Nile ; and Admiral Duncan s 
Victory oxer the Dutch Fleet, by 
Filtler, are some of the most capi- 
tal plates that have been engraved 
from his pictures. BartoJozzi lias 
engraved several, so have Picot and 
Byrne. He has made many designs 
for books, above fifty for Macklin's 
Bible alone. His landscapes are 
generally a wild nature, somewhat 
in the manner <>f Salvatof llosa ; 
and his figures have often a sort of 
fclrut like Callot'»: his cattle have 
nut the look of those of thisCQUUtry, 
and his bulls are said to be all buf- 
faloes ; yet he is owe of the best art- 
ists in his way. But his humorous 
designs cannot rank with those ol 
the successful candidates; nor is it 
to be supposed that he imagined 
they could. His large plates, Sum- 
mer and Whiter, by Picot, may be 
glassed as humorous designs ; above 
one hundred others are to be met 
with. 

Mrs. Loutherbourg passed a few 
years ago for one of the most beau- 
tiful women in this country. Her 
portrait, published about 1776, is 
a small print in stipple by Scorou- 
doomoff, inscribed Z'ura. In the 
picture of Truster he has introduced 
hispwn figure, Mrs. Loutherbourg, 



her sister, Picot (lie engraver, and 
tin! Russian artist just mentioned. 

I could relate many eccentricities 
of this man of genius, but will con- 
fine myself to (wo instances: — One* 
day when he was painting, be ob- 
served his footman driving a pool 
half-starved cat out of the area. He 
immediately called out, "John, bring 
that cat back." — " He was stealing 
a piece of meat, sir." — "Then he 
is hungry and you must feed hiui." 
— "Sir, he has got the mange." — 
" Then the animal has a double 
claim on our commiseration. Bring 
him back, and you must feed and 
cure him too — and when he is cured, 
let me see him. I have an ex- 
cellent receipt to cure that co-m- 
plaint." 

On an other occasion, he was 
paintinga snake pursuing a traveller, 
and could not please himself Ln re- 
gard to the attitude. He rung the bell 
for John, and on his appearance 
immediately caught him by (he col- 
lar. The footman started back, 
"Your altitude is excellent," cried 
his master: "/that is all I wanted." 

Indeed, the intercourse with na- 
ture which Loutherbourg and other 
first-rate painters arc in the habit 
of keeping up, is one great cause 
of their superior merit. Can it be 
supposed that an artist can paint 
from fancy a wild, romantic nature, 
in so good a style as if he were to 
select from the scenes about the 
Devil's Cave in the Peak nod Eldon 
Hole, in Derbyshire? These Lou- 
therbourg often copied. The foamy 
horrors of the ocean be painted from 
(he ocean itself, and pursued the 
same method in all the otherdepart- 
ments. This method not only con- 
tributes greatly to improvement, but 
also renders the works of a painter 
L l a 



§52 



CONVERSATIONS ON THE ARTS. 



extremely meritorious. A painter 
should also avail himself of what 
the best works of the best masters 
can supply ; he should artfully bor- 
row, parody, &c. ; he should con- 
sider, when at work, how the great- 
est masters in the department on 
which he is employed would select 
their objects in such a piece ; and 
in colouring, what colours they 
would use in their lights, half-tints, 
shades, and reflexes. This he should 
learn by observation on their works, 
and not trust to the caprices of an 
Unscientific fancy, for this will fail. 
'Tis the same with actors. The 
first-rate actors study much from 
pictures, prints, statues : hence in 
a great degree their merit. From 
these they may learn dignity, grace, 
appropriate expression, dress. The 
best book which has been written 
on dancing, and hns been so highly 
complimented by Voltaire, says, that 
the best ballet-masters are those who 
are never employed, meaning the 
best painters ; that the ballet-mas- 
ters iii general understand scarcely 
any thing of composition — how a 
number of figures should be thrown 
into groups — how they should sus- 
tain each other — and how there 
should be a subordination in exer- 
tion, dress, &c. according to their 
importance. Inferior actors and bal- 
let-masters should reflect on this ; 
ihc former may extremely improve 
themselves by adopting appropriate 
attitudes from the best productions 
of art ; and the latter should study 
Composition, in a great measure, 
like an historical painter. 

Miss Eve. I have seen this prin- 
ciple adopted in some of the minor 
theatres with good success. I have 
often passed three or four hours in 
an evening at the Royalty Theatre, 



Wellclose-square, where a Miss So- 
lomons, a Miss Da Costa, and my- 
self have frequently occupied the 
stage-box. I have seen Mrs. Ast- 
lcy in Fair Rosamond, exactly in 
the attitudes of some figures which 
I have by Fuseli and other masters, 
which she had evidently copied. I 
have seen their spirits in the Castle 
Spectre and other pieces, precisely 
copied from West's Spirit in the 
IVitch of Endor, muffled with dra- 
pery ; and in the last scene of the 
Death of Captain Cook, all the fi- 
gures are arranged exactly in the 
same manner as in that celebrated 
composition of the above artist, the 
Death of General Wolfe, which 
very much contributes to its excel- 
lence. Managers, actors, and dan- 
cers, as you observe, should think 
of this. It presents an inexhausti- 
ble source of instruction, and in a 
great degree shews inferiors why 
others so far excel them. Dajncers, 
in particular, who would acquire 
grace, should think of Hogarth's 
gentle, winding line. A straight 
line is stiff; a gentle, winding line, 
though without any apparent figure, 
looks almost like a graceful dancer. 
Thus the theatre may thunder with 
applaiisc, John Bull may roar with 
delight at an excellent attitude, but 
the credit of it frequently belongs 
more particularly to the antique, to 
Michael Angelo, Raphael, Parme- 
giano, Corregio, Guido, Carlo Dol- 
ce, Fuseli, or some other great mas- 
ter, from whom it was copied. But 
this is not seen by one in a hundred. 

Miss K. Addison, Hawkins, 
Hull, and some others, have chosen 
the interesting story of the Fair 
Rosamond as the subject of their 
pens. 

Miss Eve. Addison's opera of 



CON VtUSATION'S ON THE ARTS. 



203 



Rosamond was got (o music by Mr. 
Clayton, after the Italian manner, 
in 1706; and since that, in a supe- 
rior style, by Dr. Arne, brother to 
Mrs. Cibber, the celebrated actress. 
There is an old song on this subject, 
which I am learning. 

Miss A'.. Can you repeat it ? 

Miss Eve, I have but just be- 
gun to learn it, These are the two 
first stanzas : 

When as King Harry rul'd ibis land, 

The second of that name, 
More than his queeu be dearly lov'd 

A fair and comely dame : 
Most peerless was her beauty found, 

Her favour and her fare ; 
A tweeter creature in this world 

Could never prince embrace. 

Her crisped locks like threads of gold 

Appealed to each man's sight ; 
Tier sparkling eyes, like orient pearl, 

Did cast a beauteous light; 
The blood within the crystal cheeks 

Did Fuch a colour drive, 
is though the lily and the rose 
For mastership did strive: 
Yea Rosamond, fair Rosamoud, her name was 

called so, 
To whom the dame Ciueen Eleanor did prove 
a deadly foe. 

Then follows a description of her 

bower at Woodstock, and the clue 
of thread. 

See what a beautiful rainbow ap- 
pears in the darkened cas>t! 

Miss K. Yes, and it makes a 
brilliant semicircle about the tree 
on which my Romeo sits. This 
cat often furnishes mc with a su- 
blime design. An artist such as 
Lontherbourg wonld take notes of 
the colours of this luminous rain- 
bow, and endeavour lo imitate it in 
a picture. 

How Romeo seems to enjoy his 
situation ! The immortal Chatierton 
lias written some sublime poetry On 
the Death of a Cat. 

Miss Eve. Can you repeat it ? 



Miss A". 

Haste, haste, ye eolenra rneM e n ge t i el night* 

Spread the black mantle on the shrinking 

plain : 

But, ah' my torments still suriite the light! 

The changing seasons alter not my pain. 

Ve variegated children of the spring, 

Yc blossoms blushing with the pearly dew, 

Ve birds that sweetly in the hawthorn sing, 
Ye flo.v'ry meadows, lawns of verdant hue, 

Faint are your colours — harsh your love-notes 
thrill; 
To me no pleasure nature now can yield. 
Alike the barren rock and woody bill, 

The dark brown blasted heath and fruitful 
field. 

Yc spouting cataracts, ye silver streams, 
Ye spacious rivers whom the \\ iliow shroud?. 

Ascend the bright-crownM Sun's far shining 
beams, 
To aid the mournful tear-distilling cload*. 

Ye noxious vapours, fall upon my head; 

Ye wreathing adders, round my feet entwine; 
Ye toads, your venom on my footpath shed - 

Ye blastid meteors, upon me shine. 

Ye circling seasons, intercept the year; 

Ye loud tempestuous billows, cease to roar. 
In plaintive numbers through the valley* 
ktray. 

Ye verdant-vested trees, forget to grow, 
Ca3t off the yellow foliage of your pride ; 

Ye sofiij trickling rivers, cease to ilow, 

Or ewell'd with certain death and poison,, 

glide. 

Ye solemn warblers of the gloomy nicrht, 
That rest ou lightning-blasted oaks the day, 

Through the black mantle take your slow- 
pae'd flight, 
Rending the silent woods with shrieking lay. 

Ye brow-crown' d mountains, lost to mortal 

Dovrr. to i!.e rallies bend \our bnar\ head ; 
\ e livid cemtts, fiie the peopled skies — 
IV Lad] Betty's Tabby Cat is dead'. 

Miss Ave. This is sublime and 
humorl •:■ . 

Mi^s A". ITcreisan African anec- 
dote that seeing; to possess the same 
qualities : — 

" A few years ago, immediately 
after th.c shock of a tremendous 



254 



CONVERSATIONS ON THE ARTS. 



earthquake had alarmed the inha- 
bitants of Grenada, the conversation 
nt the table of the governor turned 
upon the latent occasion of the above 
phenomenon. After each of (lie 
company had ascribed it to a dif- 
ferent cause, a negro- woman was 
asked her opinion on the subject. 
She replied, she thought that the 
jrreat God was then passing by, and 
that the earth made him a curtesy." 

Miss Eic. I am fond of sublime 
description. Will you repeat some- 
thing more by Chattcrton? 

Miss A'. Here is Chatterton's 
Ethelgar. 

" "JTis not for thee, O man, io 
murmur at the will of the Almighty. 
When the thunders roar, the light- 
nings shine on the rising waves, and 
the black clouds sit on the brow of 
the lofly hill; who then protects 
the flying deer, swiftasasablecloud 
tossed by the whistling winds, leap- 
ing over the rolling floods to gain 
the hoary wood, whilst the light- 
nings shine on his chest and the 
wind rides over his horns? -When 
the wolf roars terrible as ihc voice 
of the Severn, moving majestic as 
the nodding forests on the brow of 
Michelstow; who then commands 
the sheep to follow the swain, as the 
beams of light attend upon the morn- 
ing? Know, O man, that God suf- 
fers not the least member of his work 
to perish, without answering the 
purpose of its creation. The evils 
of life with some are blessings, and 
the plant of death healcth the wound 
of the sword. Doth the sea of trou- 
ble and affliction overwhelm thy 
soul, look unto the Lord ; thou shalt 
stand firm in the days of temptation 
as the lofty hill of Kinwulf. In 
vain shall the waves beat against 
thee ; thy rock shall stand — comely 



as the white rocks — bright as thS 
star of the evening — tall as the oak 
upon the brow of the mountain — ■ 
soft as the showers of dew that fall 
upon the flowers of the field. 

" Ethelgar arose the glory of Ex- 
anceastre. Noble were his ances- 
tors as the palace of the great king. 
His soul with the lark every morn- 
ing ascended the skies, and sported 
in the clouds, when stealing down 
the steep mountain wrapt in a show- 
er of spangling dew. Evening came 
creeping on the plain, closing the 
flowers of the day, shaking her pear- 
ly showers upon the rustling trees; 
then was his voice heard .in the 
grove, as the voice of the nightin- 
gale upon the hawthorn spray. He 
sung the works of the Lord., The 
hollow rocks joined in his devotion; 
the stars danced to his song; the 
rolling year, in various mantlets 
drest, confessed him man. He taw 
Egwina of the vale: his soul was 
astonished as the Britons who fled 
before the sword ofKenric. She was 
tall as the towering elm ; stately as 
a black cloud burst into thunder; 
fair as the wrought bowels of the 
earth ; gentle and sweet as the morn- 
ing breeze; beauteous as the sun; 
blushing as the vines of the west: 
her soul as fair as the azure curtain 
of heaven. She saw Ethelgar — her 
soft soul melted as the flying snow 
before the sun. The shrine of St. 
Culhbert united them : the minutes 
fled on the golden wings of bliss. 
Nine horned moons had decked the 
sky when Elgar saw the light. He 
was like a young plant upon the 
mountain, or the sun hidden in a 
cloud. He felt the strength of his 
sire, and swift as the lightnings of 
heaven, pursued the wild boar of the 
wood. The morn awoke the sun ? 



CONVERSATIONS ON THE ARTS. 



205 



who, stepping from the mountain's 

brow, shook his ruddy locks upon 
the shining dew. Elgar arose from 
sleep; he seized ii is sword and spear, 
and issued to the chace, as waters 
swift falling down a croj^ay rock : 
so raged young Elgar through the 
wood. The wild bonr bit his spear, 
and the fox died at his feet. From 
the thicket a wolf arose, his eyes 
flaming like two stars; he roared 
like the voice of (he tempest : hunger 
made him furious, and he rushed 
like a falling meteor to the war, like 
a thunderbolt tearing the black 
rock. Elgar darted his spear 
though his heart; the wolf raged 
like the voice of many waters, and 
seized Etgar by the throat, whose 
spirit sought the regions of the 
blest. The wolf died upon his bo- 
dy. Ethelgar and Egwina wept; 
they wept like the rains of the 
spring. Sorrow sat upon them as 
black clouds upon the mountains 
of death ; but the power of God set- 
tled their hearts. 

The golden sun arose to the high- 
est of his power ; the apple perfum- 
ed the gale, and the juicy grape 
delighted the eye. Ethelgar and 
Egwina bent their way to the moun- 
tain's side, like two stars that move 
through the sky: the flowers grew 
beneath their feci; the trees spread 
out their leaves ; the sun played 
upon the rolling brook ; the winds 
gently passed along. Dark, pitchy 
clouds veiled the face of the sun; 
the winds roared like the noise of 
battle; the swift hail descended to 
the ground ; the lightnings broke 
from the sable clouds, and gilded 
the dark brown corners of the sky ; 
the thunder shook the lofty moun- 
tains; the tall towers nodded to 
their foundations; the bended oaks 



divided tlic whistling wind; the 
broken flowers fled in confusion 
round the mountain's side : Ethel- 
gar and Egwina sought the sacred 
shade. The bleak winds roared 
over their heads, and the waters 
ran over their feet. Swift from the 
dark cloud the lightning came ; the 
skies blushed at the sight. Egwina 
stood on the brow of (he lofty hill, 
like an oak in the spring. The 
lightnings danced about her gar- 
ments, and the blasting flames black- 
ened her face: the shades of death 
swam before her eyes, and she fell 
breathless down the black sleep rock. 
The sea received her body, and she 
rolled down with the roaring water. 
Elhelgar stood terrible as the 
mountain of Maindip. The waves 
of despair harrowed up his soid, as 
(he roaring Severn plows the sable 
sand : wild as the evening wolf, his 
! eyes shone like the red vapours ifi 
the valley of the dead. Horror sat 
upon his brow ; like a bright star 
shooting through the sky, he plunjr- 
; ed from the lolly brow of the hill, 
! like a tall oak breaking from the 
I roaring wind. S(. Cutbbert ap- 
peared in the air ; the black clouds 
fled from (he sky; the sun gilded 
the spangled meadows ; the lofty 
pine stood still ; the violets of the 
vale gently moved to (he soft voice 
of the wind ; the sun shone on the 
bubbling brook. The saint, array- 
ed in glory, caught the falling mor- 
tal ; as the soft dew of the morning 
hangs upon the lolly elm, he bore 
him to the sandy beach, while the 
sea roared beneath his feet. — Elhel- 
gar opened his eyes, like the grey 
orbs of the morning folding up the 
black mantles of the night. i Learn, 
| O man!' said the member of the 
|1 blc#sed, ' (o submit to the will of 



256 



€EORGE-5TREET, KAXO V ER-SQUAltE, 



God. He is terrible as the face of the 
earth when the waters sunk to their 
habitations, gentle as the sacred 
Covering of the rock, secret as the 
bottom of the great deep, just as the 
rays of the morning. Learn that 
thou art a man, nor repine at the 



stroke of the Almighty, for God is 
as just as he is great.' The holy 
vision disappeared as the atoms fly 
before the sun. Ethelgar arose and 
bent his way to the college of Ken- 
welken, where he flourishes as a 
hoary oak in the wood of Arden.'* 
Juninus. 



Plate 29.— GEORGE-STREET, HANOVER-SQUARE. 



The houses in some parts of 
George-street, and to the left turn- 
George's church, the lofty houses f; ing of Hanover-square, are much 



In looking up this street we have 
a view of the noble portico of St. 



on each side, the intervening space 



admired for the brick-work ; and 



widening as it approaches Hanover- that of the late Lord Palmerston, 
souare; across which is seen the j, now in the occupancy of the Duch 



elegant mansion of Lord Harewood 
and through the vista of Harewood- 
place, in pleasing perspective, ap- 
pears Cavendish-square, with the 
handsome stone-fronted houses, wit Ji 
their pillars and pediments rising 
above the equestrian statue of the 
Duke of Cumberland. This rich as- 



ess of Brunswick, is considered the 
finest specimen of brick-work which 
the metropolis can shew. George- 
street has been inhabited by many 
noble and illustrious persons : — Dr. 
Lowth, late Bishop of London here 
wrote his pious and learned Com- 
mentary upon Jsaiah and other of 



semblage of architectural objects, ji the Prophets. Mr. Hcaviside, the 
combined in one coup d'oeil, places 'j celebrated anatomist and physiolo. 
the spot amongst the most admired j gist, has here erected his noble mu- 



for pictorial effect in our extensive 
metropolis. 

The extraordinary increase of 
buildings within the last forty years, 
lias left Cavendish-square, then in- 
sulated, and commanding an unin- 
terrupted view of Hampstead, High- 
gntc, Kilburn, Harrow, and a great 
sweep of country north of London — 
an inland boundary to an extensive 
City of noble streets. Indeed, so 
ivide was Cavendish-square consi- 
dered to be from the then fashion- 
able part of the town, that when the 
late Lord Torrington purchased one 
of the stone houses there, then newly 
finished, his friends facetiously bade 
Lim adieu, as he " " left them to 
f£lire into llie North/' 



scum, containing a vast collection 
of preparations, &c. illustrative of 
comparative anatomy and other 
branches of physics ; together with 
many choice specimens of natural 
history, particularly of the serpent 
tribe ; a valuable collection of books 
and drawings upon various scien- 
ces, and many rare curiosities of 
art. This museum is admirably 
arranged, and was, one evening in 
each week during the winter sea- 
son, for several years, with a spi- 
rit of munificence highly creditable 
to the proprietor, thrown open to 
the public, as a scientific conversa- 
zione, and was attended by persons 
of the highest rank and talents of 
this and every enlightened country. 



riau 20, yd <y 




- S^ 












RISE AND PROGRESS OF PAINTING IN WATER COLOURS. 



S57 



In this street resided for many years 
Shelley, the celebrated miniature- 
painter, whose finest works upon 
ivory have deservedly raised him a 
lasting reputation as a professor of 
that elegant branch of art. The 
great patronage which he experi- 
enced for many years, enabled him 
to acquire a handsome fortune. Few 
professional men had the felicity that 
attended this artist ; the urbanity of 
his manners and social disposition 
rendered his table, like that of his 
admired patron, Sir Joshua Rey- 
nolds, the center of an extensive ac- 
quaintance. He was respected and 
beloved: his liberality made him 
worthy of his good fortune, for suf- 
fering merit ever found in him a 
munificent friend. Karl Cow per 
has here a valuable collection of 
pictures by the painters of the Ita- 
lian, Venetian, Flemish, arid Dutch 
schools, and a very tine family pic- 
ture by Sir Joshua Reynolds. 

George-street has furnished to the 
world its share of graphic works. 
In this street Copley painted his 
Death of Ijord Chatham, and the 
memorable picture of the Destruc- 
tion of the Spanish floating Batte- 



ries before Gibraltar. Here Sir 
William Beechy and Phillipps pro- 
duced many of their finest works. 
Tresham long studied here; and 
Garrard on the same spot executed 
his sculptural imitations of animals, 
which he exhibited in his gallery, 
forming a collection of models, that 
have raised him, in this department, 
to a competition with the greatest 
statuaries of Greece. Here Pync 
produced his Microcosm, and ilill 
his invaluable work of Etchings of 
Animals. Mr. Bryan, in his gallery 
here, for some years, exhibited for 
sale the finest paintings of the old 
masters, which he imported from 
the Continent at a vast ex pence : 
and to perpetuate the Attic charac- 
ter of this street, Peter Coxe has 
erected his extensive premises for 
the reception and sale of collections 
of pictures and other works of art, 
which have already brought toge- 
ther the whole of the dilletanti, the 
amateurs, and artists of our day. 
The improved alterations of his 
house, together with the adjoining 
continuity of his premises, have 
added much to the architectural 
appearance of this street. 



r u _ Hiis ae raA 



OBSERVATIONS 



ov Tin: RISE 
in WAT Kit 



There is some ground for pre- il 
sinning, that the Crusaders, on their jj 
return to Europe from their expe- 
dition to the Holy Land, amongst 
the many other new arts that they 

. . . y 

acquired during their residence in 
Asia, and imported into their res pec- i 
tive countries, included that of paint- | 
ing in water colours ; and it is pro- 'I 
bablc that we owe to the ingenuity 
of the monks the praise of perpetu- 
ating that species of art. The lim- 
Xo. XLV1L Vol. VIII. 



and PROGRESS or PAINTING 
COLOURS. 

nings and illuminations that adorn 
the many ancient missals in the 
Royal Library of France, and those 
which have been preserved in this 
country from the wreck of the men- 
tal treasures so wantonly scattered 
or destroyed at the dissolution of the 
monasteries, prove that I his art was 
much cultivated subsequent to the 
Crusades. The curious illumined 
roll of the Earls of Warwick pre- 
served in the library of the Heralds' 
M M 



258 RISE AND PROGRESS OF PAINTING IX WATER COLOURS, 



College of Arms, in Doctors' Com- I] artists with various success, until it 
mons, painted by Rous, the monk J l has again shone forth in our day 



of Guy's ClilTe, containing a great 
number of portraits in the costume 
of the time, may be instanced as a 
choice specimen of the state of this 
art in that early period . It is pro- 
bable that the herald- painters con- 



with additional lustre. The works 
of Cosvvay, Shelley, Smart, Chalon, 
Robertson, Wright, Saunders, Co- 
merfort, and many others, tor splen- 
dour of colour, richness of effect, and 
all the desiderata of miniature- paint- 



tributed to the improvement of this I ing on ivory, have raised this art 



species of painting, and that it was 
much cultivated in the reign of 
Edward III. Heraldry in this reign 
received the highest polish, and 
every family of distinction made a 
display of their emblazoned coats 
of arms: indeed, so many families 
were classed amongst the gentry in 
this reign, that Sarroy and Norroy, 
with their assistant heralds, had 
full occupation in the different parts 
of England to regulate the embla- 
zoning of arms, and to prevent the 
encroachment of pretenders to ar- 
morial bearings. So much has wa- 
ter-colour painting owed to the he- 
rald-painters, that, until within the 
last half century, with the exception 
of miniature, the best specimens of 
this art have been confined to the 
emblazoning of arms, as the works 
ofSarney, ofSharpe, and of many 
others upon vellum will evince. 

Nothing, however, had been ef- 
fected in water colours, worthy of 
admiration as works of taste, until 
the reign of Charles I. when Isaac 
Oliver and Cooper caught the fine 
feeling of Vandyke and other cele- 
brated foreign portrait-painters in 



above comparison with their prede- 
cessors of every age and couutry. 

Paintings in water colours, as per- 
formed by the British artists of the 
present school, however, may be al- 
most considered as a new art, where- 
in the colouring and the effect are re- 
presented by bold and even masses, 
and the execution is not limited, as 
heretofore, to a feeble manner, nor 
the dimensions of a picture confined 
to the superficies of a few inches. 

In speaking of this art, it must be 
understood to apply to painting 
with pigments prepared with gum, 
in contradistinction to painting in 
distemper, or body colour, where 
the pigments are mixed with size 
and compounded with white. This 
species of painting was known to 
the ancient nations, and Was prac- 
tised by the Italians and others ma- 
ny centuries prior to the discovery 
of painting in oil. The celebrated 
Carfoons by Raphael were painted 
in distemper, as also many works 
by Sebastian and Marco Ricci, the 
landscapes of the late G. Barrett, 
R. A. Laporfe, and other artists of 
celebrity. But these works, how- 



oil, who were invited to practise |! ever meritorious for drawing, ex- 
here, under the patronage of that j! pression, execution, or design, are 
enlightened prince, and imitated j; deficient in those excellencies that 
the splendour and beauty of their jj were produced by the invention of 
works in miniature with colours j' painting in colours prepared with 
prepared with wafer and gum. I oil ; namely, transparency and 
Since that period has miniature- depth of tone. The modern art of 
painting been practised by many painting in water colours emulates 



msc and phoghess of painting in WATr.r: colours. '259 



the transparency of oil, and calcu- 
lating ifs power from the highest 
degree of light to its deepest degree 
of shade, may almost vie with that 
mode of painting in extent of scale. 
Body colour, or distemper painting, 
on flie contrary, will of necessity 
always remain opaque. 

ft must be allowed, that Titian, 
Paolo Veronese, Rubens, and others 
of the ancient painters, occasionally 
used water colours prepared with 
crin;;, for washing their penned out- 
lines, or first thoughts made upon 
paper, for the arrangement of (heir 
designs; and had these great artists 
condescended to pursue the prac- 
tice further, there is little reason to 
Conclude it would have been left for 
the artists of the eighteenth century 
to have discovered the capacities of 
colours so prepared. But however 
highly or deservedly valued these 
studies may be, they cannot but be 
considered as mere sketches, or 
slight memoranda of colour; nor 
can it be supposed their authors 
were capable of doing more, from 
the little attention they paid to (he 
manner of laying (heir washes, or 
from the crudeness and abruptness 
of their tcints. 

The most successful experiments 
to overcome the desiderata of this 
new art were made by the late Paul 
Sandby, R. A. ; namely, the lay- 
ing of even washes of transparent 
water colours upon paper of large 
dimensions. His surmounting that 
difficulty opened the way to every 
subsequent improvement. This in- 
telligent artist commenced his stu- 
dies at a period when the fine arts 
were in the most inauspicious state, 
being but little understood, and still 
less regarded. 

Sandby made himself acquainted 



I with the principles of linear per-' 
spective, a science that had been 
but little attended to by flic artists 

\ of his time ; and applied that know- 
ledge with much success to his de- 

; I i neat ion of the towns, cathedrals, 

I castles, and other architectural ob- 
jects which he drew with his faith- 
ful pencil, in England, Scotland, 
Wales, and Ireland. Indeed, he 
was the first English artist who made 
correct topographical views, some 
of which were selected with no in- 
considerable degree of judgment. 

Here we may lament that Hollar 
was not equally skilled in the art of 
perspective; had he possessed that 
knowledge, what beautiful and in- 
teresting works of the topography 

1 of his time should \\c have had 
to contemplate ! He lived in cm age' 
when London and its environs af- 
forded an ample field for the exer- 
cise of the pictorial talent, as it re- 
lated to architecture : had the fide- 
lity and industry of his pencil been 
directed by that taste which pro- 
ceeds from a knowledge of perspec- 
tive, we should have been acquaint- 
ed with the picturesque character 
of London previous to the great 
fire, as well as we are with Ant- 
werp, Amsterdam, Leyden, and 
many other great cities and towns, 
from tin* pencils of Vandcrheydeu, 
Storck.Stcenwick, and others of the 
Flemish and Dutch masters. It 
must ever be lamented, that no art- 
ist skilled in topographical repre- 
sentations, appeared in the British 
metropolis, until the period of its 
Gothic splendour had passed away. 
The talent of Sandby was not 
confined to the representation of 
architectural designs: he studied 

1 the beauties of nature, and was in- 
timately acquainted with the genes 
M m g 



260 RISE AND PROGRESS OF PAINTING IN WATER COLOURS. 



ral character of forest and other 
trees : the beech and the oak he 
drew with a masterly hand ; and 
when past the age of seventy, made 
his finest drawings of the woody 
grandeur of Windsor Great Park : 
these, however, he principally paint- 
ed in body colours. 

This venerable artist practised for 
more than sixty years, and had the 
felicity to see, in a third generation, 
a superstructure raised upon the 
foundation which he laid, that is 
the admiration of the world, and 
which, it is hoped, will remain a 
lasting monument to his memory. 

The character of Sandby's draw- 
ings was injured by his adherence 
to a penned outline, even after he 
saw the beautiful works of others 
who exploded that erroneous prac- 
tice : his colouring was generally 
cold, and his shadows were usually 
made with Indian ink. This fault 
has prevailed in the works of al! 
those who have delighted in a strong 
outline ; a custom that is entirely 
at variance with nature, and which 
forbids the union of richness of co- 
lour with tenderness of effect. 

Hearne improved greatly upon 
the manner of Sandby; his draw- 
ings were more highly wrought, his 
views were selected with superior 
taste, and his light and shadow were 
truer to nature. He was the first 
professor of this new art who united 
the most careful finishing of the de- 
tail of his architecture, with a due 
attention to the general effect. He 
substituted for Indian ink a fine grey 
teint for the shadows, and opposed 
thereto a pleasing warm hue ; and 
by a judicious blending of the two, 
produced great harmony. Hearne's 
drawings are justly admired for 
their chaste effect and topographi- 
cal accuracy. The work of Anti- 



quities of Great Britain, engraved 
by Byrne, Landseer, &c. from the 
drawings of Hearne, is of unrivalled 
excellence. 

Cozens contributed his share of 
talent to the advancement of this 
art: his Views in Italy evince great 
feeling, are replete with the know- 
ledge of aerial perspective, and 
beautifully describe the extensive 
scenery of that country. His style, 
however, was slight, and the fore- 
grounds of his subjects wanted depth 
and force. What he most excelled 
in was, the early effects of morning, 
or the sober hues of approaching 
evening twilight. The works of this 
master are become scarce, and are 
very highly and most justly valued. 
Smith was (he first artist who at- 
tempted to unite depth and richness 
of colour, with the clearness and 
aerial effect of Cozens. He studied 
the paintings of Claude de Lorraine, 
I'oussin, and other eminent Italian 
artists, with great attention, and 
thereby rendered himself master of 
the principles of his art. Thus 
prepared, Smith made excursions 
amidst the beautiful, the wild, and 
the grand scenery of Italy, and ex- 
plored those classic regions that had 
been trodden by the painters whose 
works he had recently contemplat- 
ed : here he made studies in colour 
of the effects of nature, and acquir- 
ed that power which raised him 
much above his competitors. Splen- 
dour of colour and richness of ef- 
j feet had not yet been exhibited by 
any professor of his department ; 
the richness of Smith's hues sur- 
prised and delighted every lover of 
(he art. Indeed, it may with (ruth 
be said, (hat with this artist the first 
epoch of painting in water colour? 
originated. 

(To be continued,) 



261 



THE MODERN SPECTATOR. 

No. XX. 

Aliens negotiu centum. Hob. Sat. vi. 1. 2. 

A croud of petitioners. 



I have been informed, from an 
authority which will not admit the 
shadow of a doubt, that a late Lord 
Chancellor, within a week after his 
appointment to that high office, re- 
ceived upwards of three hundred 
letters, the greater part of which 
contained solicitations, on behalf 
of the writers or others, for some or 
other of those favours which his high 
situation and extensive patronage 
might enable him to bestow. The 
learned lord was too well acquaint- 
ed with good manners and the de- 
corums of high life, to let them piss 
unanswered; he therefore ordered, 
every morning, a certain number to 
be brought him; by which means, 
in a stated time, he returned an- 
swers to those numerous applica- 
tions, without interfering with the 
weighty business which daily claim- 
ed his most serious attention. 

Without presuming to compare 
myself to a Lord High Chancellor, 
I really find myself in a similar pre- 
dicament : for I can no more at- 
tend to those who favour me with 
their correspondence in one month, 
than he could in one day. His lord- 
ship could, I doubt not, assign man} 
very powerful reasons for the great 
number of letters which he, from 
time to time, saw on his library ta- 
ble; and I have every reason to 
presume, that the great variety of 
communications which arc trans- 
mitted to me, originates in the greal 
popularity and extensive distribu- 



tion of the publication in which I 
possess the privilege of inserting 
them. A certain degree of self-in- 
terest, hough differing in its nature 
and objects, influenced his lord- 
ship's correspondents in the day of 
his power, and add to my import- 
ance in the zenith of mine. 

I shall now proceed according to 
the successive dates of the papers 
transmitted; and if any writers feel 
dissatisfied at this casual preference, 
they must blame themselves for not 
having sent their communications 
to me at an earlier period. 

Mr. Spectator, 

There is a sentiment in Mr. 
Colman's admirable comedy of the 
Jealous Wife, with which I am 
not a little pleased, as it indicates 
not only a benevolent heart, but a 
sound understanding. Harriet, re- 
proaching young Oakley on his 
fondness of the bottle; the lover, 
forcibly struck with the justice oft he 
reproof, exclaims — that were all 
ladies alike attentive to the morals 
of their admirers, a libertine would 
be an uncommon character. 

Indeed, a very superficial view of 
the sexes will convince our under- 
standing, that the behaviour of the 
one depends so entirely upon the opi- 
nion of the other, that, were either of 
(hem to engage seriously and active- 
ly in the business of reformation, 
the amendment of both would be 
easily effected ; and those virtues 
would be immediately cultivated 



262 



THE MODERN' SPECTATOR. 



through the prevalence of fashion, < 
which neither the force of convic- 1 
tion, the dread of temporary misfor- 1 
tune, nor the threats of religion, are I 
now sufficient to steal upon our I 
practice, even vvhile they engage 
our veneration. 

I have been insensibly led into J 
this subject, by the perusal of an 
author in which I have found such ! 
an admirable lesson to the sex, on i 
account of this unhappy approba- 
tion with which the best women too j 
frequently honour a profligate lover, | 
that I have thought it. a duty to J 
transcribe it, for the benefit of your j 
lovely and amiable readers. 



It is a common question, though 
founded on a very false principle — 
I>o not reformed rakes make the 
best husbands? StrnJnge as it may 
appear, 1 have heard it asked by a 
virtuous woman ; though I could 
scarcely refrain from enquiring of 
her, How long, with feelings and 
propensities which dictated the 
question, might it be expected that 
she would retain that character? 
In that particular instance she did 
continue to be a virtuous woman, 
but she married a rake, who belied 
the proverb, and she became a 
wretched one. 

I will not wound the ear of mo- 
desty, by drawing minutely the 
Character of a rake ; but be it what 
it may, I will go so far as to sup- 
pose, that a man of this character 
is actually reformed so far, as to 
treat the woman whom ho marries 
with tenderness and fidelity ; and 
that he gives up the society of his 
old companions, so far, at least, 
as not to suffer them to interfere 
ivith, or withdraw his attention from 
her. it may be possible, and virtue 



will have cause for rejoicing when- 
ever it happens. It is certainly the 
best atonement he can make for his 
former misconduct. But now, let 
me ask, without any regard to t)ie 
opinions of the world, which is most 
desirable, in point of sentiment, as 
well as of that respect which young 
women owe to themselves, to their 
friends, to thcirscx, to order, recti- 
tude, and honour, the pure, unex- 
hausted affection of a man, who lias 
not by intemperance and debauch- 
ery corrupted his principles, im- 
paired his constitution, enslaved 
himself to appetite, contributed to 
embolden guilt, or to harden vice ; 
who never laid snares for beauty, 
never betrayed the innocence that 
trusted in him, never injured fe- 
male reputation, disturbed the peace 
of families, defied the laws of his 
counfrv, or set at nought the pro- 
hibitions of religion ; which, I add, 
is the most desirable, the affection 
of such a man, or the preference of 
one who has probably committed all 
these things, and certainly a large 
portion of them, and who has little, 
if any thing, more to offer, but the 
shattered remains of his health and 
of his heart ? 

That lie who has formerly been a 
rake, may, after all, prove a tole- 
rably good husband, according to 
the general acceptation of the ex- 
pression, I have already acknow- 
ledged. But I would ask, in the 
hope of a candid answer, Is it to 
be generally expected ? Is there no 
danger that such a man will be 
tempted, by the influence of long 
habit, to return to his old ways? 
Or that the insatiable love of vari- 
ety, which he has so freely indulg- 
ed, may not lead him astray, after 
all his promises and pretensions, 



Tin; MODERN SPECTATOB. 263 

from the virtue and innocence of } most flattering encomiums, wilh so- 
li is own homer Will not the very I licitations to continue my corre- 
idea of restraint, which he could spondence. Thus was my propen- 
nevcr brook when single, make him s '(y to writing increased, and J 
the nunc impatient of it when mar- became so ambitious of (he title of 
ried ? Will he have the better an author, that] neglected all the 
opinion ol" his wife's virtue because prudent means of promoting mv 
lie lias been in the habit of con vers- future interest, and obtaining a 
ing with women who had none, and permanent provision. My lather, 
with men among whom it was a 'if is (rue, placed me in the office 
vaunted opinion, (hat the sex were of an eminent attorney; but the 
all alike? With young women in I poets were preferred to Coke and 
every situation these considerations LyUleton, and instead of attending 
are of no small importance, but to to declarations, and pleas, and dc- 
thosc who live in what is called the murrers, I was ever busied in pur- 
world, and particularly amidst its suing (he belles Ullrcs ; and when 
fashions and pleasures, they may, I should base been visiting the 
if duly attended to, and reduced to courts of law, 1 was courting thedi- 
practice, prove, if not the cause of vinitics of Helicon. 
happiness, at least the preventives The small portion of fortune which 
of misery. — Your obedient servant, I inherited at 1113- father's death, was 
Benevolus. ]\ soon expended ; and 1 found myself 

I shall not repeat the observations left to bustle through (he work!, 
which introduced the following nar- without money, or a 113' established 
rative, as every reader will find profession by which I could procure 
them, I trust, in his own breast. i it. Nothing was now left me but 

I was sent very early to the uni- j my literary talents ; and my folly 
ver»ilv, wilh a view to the prcpar- having brought me to a state of ab- 
ing myself for holy orders, as a solute necessity, 1 was obliged to en- 
nobleman had promised my father list in the army of mercenaries, and 
a living on the death of the incum- compelled to submit to all the drud- 
bent. Unfortunately, however, be- gery of such a situation. 1 wastoo 
fore 1 had been at Oxford four poor, and consequently too depend- 
years, my patron unexpectedly died, ant, to make advantageous condi- 
and all 1113' hopes of preferment in (ions for myself; and with an hun- 
the church perished with him. 1 grv stomach and a rusty coat, I 
was therefore immediately taken |j was, of course, under the necessity 
from that scat of learning. of receiving those which were im- 

Dunng my residence in coll ge, posed upon me. I now found 1113 - 
1 occasionally composed essays in Self an intellectual slave, 1113- time 
the different walks of literature, I was at the command of my la^k- 
merely lor 1113- amusement ; and, to j masters, and 1 received orders from 
try the opinion of the public re- them for (he employment of my 
specting their merit, 1 com muni- ' mind, in the same way as a jour- 
cated them to some or other of the ; ncyman tailor might be directed to 
publishers of monthly publications, employ his fingers. 1 have been 
when 1 never failed to receive the I obliged to write a philosophical 



264 



THE MODERN SPECTATOR. 



essay on contentment when my heart 
was bursting with anguish ; and re- 
ceived notice to prepare a poem ad- 
dressed to liberty, when the she- 
riff's officers were in waiting at my 
door. Sometimes I have been en- 
joined to criticise with the utmost 
severity a work of sterling merit ; 
and at others, to lavish the most 
flowery encomiums on the produc- 
tions of ignorance and imbecillity. 
Nay, I once lost the favour of one 
of my constant employers, and was 
ordered to quit his counting-house 
in terms of the utmost indignation, 
because I hesitated to abuse the au- 
thor, as well as the volume which 
he had written. 

Thus I continued to live and to 
labour, till, having written a poli- 
tical pamphlet which attracted a 
considerable share of the public at- 
tention, a nobleman of high rank 
in a short time desired to see me, 
enquired, with the most humane 
concern, into my situation and cir- 
cumstances, and, after having paid 
my debts, assigned me an apart- 
ment in his own house. 

I now felt myself the happiest of 
human beings, and looked forward 
with the utmost confidence to future 
independence. But I had not been 
a month in this nobleman's house, 
when his high opinion of me ap- 
peared evidently to diminish. He 
expected that, as a man of talents 
and knowledge, I should be always 
prepared to support his opinions, 
however ridiculous, and to strength- 
en his arguments, however absurd. 
Nor was this all ; as a man of ge- 
nius, it was expected that I should 
always be lively and entertaining. 

With this view he introduced me 
into all companies which he fre- 
quented ; but when he perceived 



that I would neither be his parasite 
nor bis buffoon, his friendship visi- 
bly declined ; till at length he seem- 
ed to take a pleasure in mortifying 
me, by talking of the distresses of 
authors, hinting at the relief which 
he had afforded, and endeavouring 
to raise a laugh at my expence. As 
these mortifications, however, were 
but casual, as I lived well, and had 
a large portion of time at my com- 
mand, I was determined not to quit 
my situation till something better 
was within my reach. But the eat- 
ing-room jests began to reach the 
second table, and the servants felt 
themselves privileged to imitate the 
conduct of their lord, and take li- 
berties which could not be sup- 
ported. The butler coming one day 
very abruptly into my room, to de- 
sire me to raise the devil, to know 
about some silver spoons which 
were missing, I kicked him down 
stairs, and determined at once to 
return to my old profession and my 
old masters, as any condition was 
preferable to that of being subject 
to the ill treatment and scorn of li- 
veried domestics. Besides, I had 
now acquired some distinction as a 
literary character, and I had every 
reason to think, that J should be 
able to continue the trade of an au- 
thor, with accumulated advantage 
as to its profits, and without the de- 
grading humiliation which I had 
formerly experienced. I was en- 
couraged in this hope by accident- 
ally meeting with one of my former 
employers, who pulled off his hat 
to me, which he had never done 
before, and invited me to dine 
with him at his country house the 
following Sunday, where he receiv- 
ed me with great civility, enter- 
tained me with equal hospitality, 



OX THF. ORIGINAL r.WEXTOrt OF TUT. TELESCOPE. 



265 



and hinted more limn once at his 
readiness to enter into n«w and more 
profitable engagements with me. 

But I was prevented from pursu- 
ing the design which I then had in 
contemplation, by an event so un- 
expected and improbable, that I am 
almost disposed to consider it as a 
provident! 1 inl srferen.ee in my fa- 
vour. [n short, an elderly gentle- 
man of great wealth, whom 1 had 
occasionally seen at the table of uiy 
late noble patron, thought proper 
to put my name in It i s will, and to 
annex to it a legacy of a thousand 
pounds, and an annuity for my life 
of two hundred pounds. He only 
survived this act of generosity a 
week, and it. was in the morning 
of the day when I quitted my lord's 
house, that I was informed of this 
Imppy change in my fate and for- 
tune. 

I soon hastened to that retirement 
which I now enjoy. In a very 
pleasant part of a western county 



I purchased a eottagc, with a few 
acres of land, which I cultivate and 
improve. Here 1 follow those pur- 
Suits which are con iron in I to my na- 
tural disposition: my amusements 
are not only innocent, hut useful : 
1 decorate my little domain with 
scattered groups of trees; and my 
habitation, which is situated in a 
grove, is surrounded with flowers. 
I have peopled my yard with fouls 
of every kind ; and my fields aire 
enlivened with a small flock and a 
few kine. 1 am respected by my 
neighbours, and my economy allows 
me to make some savings for the 
poor. 

Such is the history of my prist 
distresses and my present comforts; 
and I send the narrative 16 be pub- 
lished by you. It may serve, per- 
haps, as an example to prove the 
folly of those who court (he Muses 
without being independent of them. 
Do ui las. 



tagnwiBua 



ON THE ORIGINAL INY r ENTOR OF THE TELESCOPE. 



By Augustus v 

Let every one who hopes to im- . 
mortal ize himself by inventions, 
think of the telescope, which is not i 
much more than two hundred years 
old, and concerning the real inven- ; 
tor of which great doubts are ne- 
vertheless raised. Some assert, that 
a certain Jacob Mctius, a native of 
Alkmaar, in Holland, presented the 
States General, in 1009, with the 
first telescope. Others relate, that 
the children of a spectacle-maker 
at Middelburgj being at play in 
their father's shop, accidentally 
looked through two glasses, one of 

No, XL VII. Vol. VIII . 



ON KOTZEBUE. 

which was convex and the other 
concave, at the weathercock on the 
top of the church-steeple. This, 
indeed, would not have been any 
step towards a discovery, had not a 
second fortunate chance caused the 
glasses to be held exactly at the 
proper distance from each other. 
The weathercock all at once appear- 
ed so large, that the children, loudly 
expressing their astonishment, call- 
ed their father, who was not 1< .-.s 
amazed; and, for the greater con- 
venience, tixed the glasses in a 
frame. There soon came another 
N * 



266 



ON THE ORIGINAL INVENTOR OF THE TELESCOPE. 



person, who placed them at the two 
extremities of a tube, by which 
objects were rendered more distinct, 
because the tube prevented the light 
from entering on either side. At 
length a third contrived movable 
tubes that would slide into one ano- 
ther. Such was the history given 
of this invention ; but it consisted I 
of mere conjectures, which did not 
satisfy a writer of the 17th century, j 
He interested himself as warmly in j 
the complete development, of the i 
affair, as if he had been claiming 
the honour of the invention for his j 
own grandfather ; for there have I 
been in all ages extraordinary peo- 
ple, who were far more anxious to 
know in what year, on what day, ! 
and in what minute a thing was first ! 
produced, than to what uses it may 
be applied. He was so successful 
as to procure the evidence of five 
witnesses, and a letter from a depu- 
ty to the Slates of Holland, named 
Borel. Two of these witnesses as- 
cribe the invention to Zacharias 
Jaus, a spectacle-maker of Middel- 
burg ; while the three others, on 
the contrary, make no mention of 
this Zacharias, but give the honour 
to another spectacle-maker of the 
same town, named John Lapprey. 
Borel relates, in his letter, that he 
Was intimately acquainted with Za- 
charias Jaus, and had often played, 
when a boy, in his father's shop. 
He had often heard these people 
say, that they were the inventors of 
the microscope, In 1619 he was 
jn England, and had there seen, in 
the hands of his friend, Cornelius 
Drebbel, the very same microscope 
tvhich Zacharias and his father had 
"presented to the Archduke Albert, 
trho had given it to Drebbel. Borel 



then proceeded to describe the ap- 
paratus ; and from this account it 
appeared, that the instrument of 
which he was speaking, was actually 
the microscope. He added, that, in 
1600, the two Jaus's had invented 
the telescope, which they exhibit- 
ed to Prince Maurice of Nassau, 
who was desirous that the invention 
should be kept secret, that he might 
derive the exclusive benefit from it 
in the war in which he was then en- 
gaged. The report of it, neverthe- 
less, got abroad. A stranger repaired 
to Middelburg in quest of the inven- 
tor of the telescope, and accident- 
ally went into Lapprey's shop in- 
stead of Jaus's. His conversation 
and questions gave the latter some 
idea of the principle of the inven- 
tion, which he pursued till he had 
completed the discovery, and was 
the first who made it public. Hence 
he was, for some time, considered 
as the real author. It was lot long, 
however, before Met ins and Dreb- 
bel came to Middelburg, and went 
straightway to Zacharias Jaus, of 
whom they purchased their tele- 
scopes. 

By this narrative several contra- 
dictions are, indeed, reconciled; 
but a new improbability is started, 
namely, that the microscope Was 
invented before the telescope — a cir- 
cumstance which militates against 
all hitherto received opinions. 

This instance, among many others, 
shews the precarious nature of the 
fame that awaits the author of any 
invention. Even when an invention 
is called by the name of a particular 
person, we cannot be assured that 
this person was the original inventor. 
It is frequently the case, that he 
was only the first by whom it was 






FRAGMENTS AND ANECDOTES. 



2G7 



applied to some useful purpose. 
Only, did I say ? — 1 beg pnrdon 
for the unseasonable introduction o( 
that word ; for certainly he who 
first makes a useful application of 



accident. In the case in question, 
Newton perhaps deserves the great- 
est share of the glory, though he 
had no children to look at the wea- 
thercock on the church-steeple, be- 



any invention, is better entitled to J! cause, by his knowledge of rcfrac- 
gratitude and fame, than he into j tion, he invented the reflecting te- 

whose way it was tirst thrown by ji lescopc. 



FRAGMENTS AND ANECDOTES. 



m. d'apciion, Anciinisiioe of 

AUCH. 

M. d'Afciion, bishop of Dijon, 
and afterwards archbishop of Auch, 
was in his youth a knight of Mal- 
ta, and destined by his family for 
the naval service. Whilst at col- 
lege at Lyons he was introduced to 
a Spanish Jesuit, who had the re- 
putation of a fortune-teller, and who 
predicted that the young student 
then presented to him would become 
a pillar of (he church, and the third 
bishop of Dijon. This prophecy was 



cried a mother in an agony of de- 
spair, "I have been rescued from 
the flames, but I could not bring 
away my child, who is in that 
room," pointing to the second floor, 
which seemed to be all in flames. 
The archbishop immediately direct- 
ed a ladder to be placed against 
the window in question, and offer- 
ed a reward of two thousand crowns 
to any person who should save the 
unfortunate child. No one would 
venture to expose himself to such 
imminent danger. The intrepid 



the more remarkable as that town | prelate, wrapping a wet blanket 
was not then an episcopal see. Ap- II round him, ascended (he ladder, 
chon's young companions laughed darted through (he flames, and soon 
heartily at the prediction, and gave appeared again with the child in his 
him the nickname of the Bishop, arms: he restored it to the mother 
which he still retained when in (he ' amid (he acclamations and benedic- 
marine guards. This anecdote was \ [ions of (he admiring crowd. The 
attested by all his contemporaries : | parents threw themselves at his tcel. 
and as a farther proof of its aufheu- ij " My friends," said he gaily, "I 
tieity, this worthy prelate, who was have earned the two thousand 



never known to utter the smallest 
untruth even in jest, frequently re- 
lated it himself as a positive fact, 



crowns, ft is but just that the in- 
fant which I have saved, and which 
has thereby become my adopted 



which, however, he would observe, j| child, should enjoy that sum, which 
had not led him (o pin his faith on | i make over to it. Here is the mo- 
predictions of (his kind. After his 
elevation to (he archiepiscopal see 
of Auch, a fire broke out in a house 
in that eity. The prelate hasten- J 
•ed to the spot, and enquired if all 
the inhabitants Were safe. "Alas!"' officer in the regiment of French 



ney"' he added, and immediately 

w ilhdrew to avoid the (hanks which 

their gratitude showered upon him. 

VANITY PlN'lslIU). 

The Marquis de L'Etorriere, an 



2GS 



FRAGMENTS AND ANECDOTES. 



guards, and the handsomest man at 
Paris, suffered severely for (lie good 
opinion which he had conceived of 
himself in consequence of the gene- 
ral admiration that he excited. Be- 
ing one day at mass with a large con- 
gregation in the church of Quinze- 
Vingfs, lie felt some one press 
against him in such a s( range man- 
ner that lie turned briskly round. 
" Sir," said the person who thus 
incommoded him, " would you have 
the goodness to turn the oilier way?" 
— "And why so, sir?" — "Since 
you oblige me to tell you, sir, it is 
because I am a painter, and a friend 
of mine of the same profession who 
is in that pew on the left, having 
received a commission from a lady 
of great beauty to take your por- 
trait, has requested me to place you 
in the attitude which he wishes to 
give you." M. de 1'Etorriere hail 
the less doubt of the truth ot this 
story, as he actually perceived in the 
pew pointed out to him, a man with 
his eyes fixed on him, and some- 
thing like a pencil in his hand. He 
took great pains to assume the pos- 
ture in which tiie stranger wished 
to place him. " Sir," said the 
latter in a few minutes, " I am much 
obliged to you; that will do; 3'ou 
need not trouble yourself any more." 
"Ah, sir!" replied the marquis, "it 
would be impossible to be more ex- 
peditious." The pretended painter 
mingled with the Crowd ; ami M. 
de T Etorrierc putting' his hand into 
his pocket, sought in vain for his 
gold snuff-box. "lie soon discover- 
ed that the story of the portrait was 
only a trick to strip him of that box, 
his purse, watch, and all the valu- 
ables TlVat he had about him. 

VOLT A 1 ItE. 

Voltaire, the last time lie was at 
Paris, was overwhelmed with visi- 



tors of every description. A young 
author of very moderate abilities, 
but unbounded vanity, thought it 
right to pay his respects to the Nes- 
tor of French literature. He was 
ushered into the closet ot" the phi- 
losopher. " Great man," said he, 
" to-day I am come to salute Homer ; 
to-morrow I shall come to see So- 
phocles ; the day after Plato, and 

the following days " — " Ah, 

sir!" rejoined Voltaire, interrupt- 
ing him, "could you not pay all 
those visits to-day ?" 

THE WHITE RABBIT. 

The following story is extracted 
from a French publication. As we 
never met with it in any other shape, 
we know not to what degree of cre- 
dit it may be entitled. — Lord Pel- 
ham resided almost all the year at 
a mansion situated on the banks of 
the Thames, a few miles from Lon- 
don. He was accustomed to go 
frequently to town on foot and with- 
out attendants. One evening, in his 
progress towards the metropolis, he 
was met by a man shabbily dressed 
and carrying a basket. " My lord," 
said the stranger, "will you buy 
my little white rabbit ?"— Lord Pel- 
ham shook his head, and without 
uttering a word, pursued his way. 
The man followed him. " My lord,'' 
he resumed in a tone remarkably 
I expressive, "you will surely not 
refuse to buy my little white rab- 
bit J"— "I don't want it," replied 
! his lordship with some surprise ; 
I " therefore leave me, my friend." — 
I "I must nevertheless insist, my 
1 lord, on your instantly buying my 
little white rabbi!," rejoined the 
man, at the same time presenting a 
pistol to Lord Pelham's breast. — 
" Yes, yes, I see that I must buy 
it : but why were you not so expli- 
cit at first ? And what do you ask 



FRAGMENTS AND ANECDOTES. 



269 



for your rabbit?" — ".A thousand 
guineas, my lord?" — l 'A thousand 
guineas for a rabbit !" — " Not a 

shilling less; and you will give if 
me, my lord — won't you? 1 ' — He 
hail cocked his pistol and his finger 
was upon the trigger. " Certainly," 
replied Lord Pelham, ''you shall 
have your thousand guineas, but J 
have not that sum about me." — " I 
dare say not ; but your signature 
will be sufficient." — "My signa- 
ture ! But for that I should want . . ." 
— " Nothing but pen, ink, and pa- 
per ; here they are, my lord ; 1 have 
provided every thing." Lord Pel- 
ham finding that there was no other 
way of getting rid of this singular 
rabbit-dealer, drew a bill payable 
at sight for the sum required, and 
would have pursued his way. The 
stranger, however, who still held 
the pislol in his hand, opposed his 
advance. " Whither are you go- 
ing, my lord ?" — '* To London.'' — 
" You are mistaken, my lord ; you 
must return to your house : it is I 
that am going to London to receive 
the thousand guineas at your bank- 
er's ; for you must be aware that I 
can finish my business without you. 
Farewell, that is your road, this is 
mine." Lord Pelham tliil not judge 
it prudent to continue the discus- 
sion ; he walked thoughtfully back 
to his country seat with his white 
rabbit, and took good care not to 
let any one know how dearly he had 
paid for that little animal. 

Ten years after this adventure, 
liOrd Pelham being in London, as 
he was walking through the streets, 
a magnificent jeweller's shop, bril- 
liantly lighted, caught his attention. 
The features of the jeweller struck 
him; he looked at the man, anil 
thought that he resembled the stran- 



ger of whom he had formerly pur- 
chased the white rabbit . He went 
in and asked to be shewn a few arti- 
cles ; at the fust word of the jewel- 
ler all his doubts vanished, and he 
recognized the robber. But what 
could he do? How could he accuse 
him without witnesses and without 
proofs? [lis lordship retired, with- 
outbetraying theslightes! suspicion, 
and considered all night of the means 
of recovering his money. 

Next morning, dressed very plain- 
ly, and carrying a small basket on 
his arm, he repaired to the shop, 
and begged to speak with the mas- 
ter. He was shewn into a back 
room, where the jeweller was seated 
at a desk. u Sir," said Lord Pel- 
ham, as soon as he was left alone 
with him, " will yon not buy a lit- 
tle white rabbit ?" The jeweller 
stared. " 1 am sure," resumed his 
lordship, " that you will immedi- 
ately buy this pretty little white 
rabbit," at the same time presenting 
a pistol at him. — '•With great plea- 
sure," replied the jeweller, in the 
utmost consternation ; " what do 
you ask for your rabbit?" — " The 
lowest price i* a thousand guineas." 
— " Ah ! double and treble as much, 
my lord," cried the man, falling on 
his knees, and handing his pocket- 
book ; "but, for God's sake, do 
not ruin me !" Moved by his tears 
and repentance, and still more by 
the sight of a young wife and two 
children whom he perceived in the 
shop, Lord Pelham merely took 
j back his thousand guineas out of 
[ the pocket-book. — '* "i'is but a 
j 1 rifle to me," said the jeweller. 
| ; " With the money which I so 
I strangely borrowed of' your lord- 
1 ship, 1 established myself in bust- 
1 ness, Uie proliis of which have sur- 



270 



FRAGMENTS AND ANECDOTES. 



passed my fondest hopes." Lord 
Pel ham on this took out of the 
pocket-book another thousand gui- 
neas, which he sent as a donation 
to the Foundling Hospital. At his 
departure he solemnly pledged his 
honour to the jeweller not to dis- 
close the adventure : he kept his 
word, and it was only by the pa- 
pers found after his death that the 
affair was at last discovered. 

ASSOCIATIONS OF IDEAS. 

Dr. Rush, the celebrated Ame- 
rican physician, in a lecture which 
lie has recently published on the 
utility of a knowledge of the facul- 
ties of the human mind, relates the 
following anecdote as illustrative of 
the medical advantages of dissolv- 
ing unpleasant, and creating agree- 
able associations of ideas : — " Dur- 
ing the time that I passed at a coun- 
try school in Cecil county, in Ma- 
ryland, I often went on a holiday 
to see an eagle's nest on the summit 
of a dead tree, in the neighbour- 
hood of the school, during the time 
of the incubation of that bird. The 
daughter of the farmer in whose 
field this tree stood, and with whom 
T became acquainted, married and 
settled in Philadelphia about forty 
years ago. In our occasional inter- 
views we now and then spoke of the 
innocent haunts and rural pleasures 
of our youth, and, among other 
things, of the eagle's nest in her fa- 
ther's field. A few years ago I was 
called upon to visit this woman, 
in consultation with a young physi- 
cian, in the lowest state of a typhus 
fever. Upon entering the room I 
caught her eye, and, with a cheer- 
ful tone of voice, said only — The 
eagle's nest. She seized my hand, 
without being able to speak, and 
discovered strong emotions of plea- 
sure in her countenance, probably 



from a sudden association of all her 
domestic connections and enjoy- 
ments with the words I uttered. 
From that time she began to reco- 
ver. She is now living, and sel- 
dom fails when we meet, to salute 
me with the echo of — The eagle's 
nest." 

M. VON HALEEll. 

M. von Ilaller, who fell in a duel 
with a M. von Erlach, at Avignon, 
in 17S1, was a son of the celebrated 
physician, and an officer in a Swiss 

II regiment in the French service. 

j He was at once a genius and an ec- 

[' centric character. He united the 
highest accomplishments, both na- 

j; tural and acquired, the utmost frank- 
ness, and the most amiable disposi- 
tion and fascinating manners, with 
the most extraordinary caprices and 

| inflexible obstinacy. When his fa- 
ther, as parents very often do, at- 
tempted to assert his paternal au- 
thority, and seemed desirous to con- 
tinue the director of his maturer 
years, j'oung Haller insisted on re- 
imbursing him for every expence 
(hat he had ever occasioned, even 
for that attending his birth and bap- 
tism ; and never afterwards dined 
with his father without paying for 
his repast. He generally travelled 
on foot, proceeding straight for- 
ward, regardless of roads. If he 
met with a river, he swam across, 
and if he came to a mountain, he 
climbed over it. All his baggage, 
in such excursions, consisted of a. 
couple of shirts. He was a great 
and fortunate gamester. His quar- 
rel with Erlach originated in a ri- 
valship respecting a vacant office, 
for which both of them had made 
application at Kerne. 

FEMALE JtEVENGE. 

During the reign of Philip II. of 
Spain, a gentleman had the misfor- 



ON Tim INCONGIlUlTin? OV MOnCRV ARCHITECTURE. 271 

tone to kill his adversary in a noc- it pnrition, quivered in every limb, 
tiirnal rencounter in the streets of j and related his adventure without 
Madrid. He immediately fled to i reserve. " Von are in my power," 
the porch of a church, as to a sane- ; replied she, "but you have nothing 
tuary, till he should be able to jus- to fear from me ; J am a murderer 
tify himself. As he was leaning like yourself. I belong to a family 
against the door, he perceived, to of distinction : a base and perjured 
his astonishment j a brilliant light man has ruined me, and boasted of 
in the church. He had sufficient his victory over my weakness and 
courage to advance towards the credulity. His life paid the forfeit 
light, but was seized with inex- of his guilt. J>ut this sacrifice was 
pressible horror at the -.sight of a not sufficient for betrayed and in- 
femalefigurc clothed in white, which suited love: I bribed the sexton — 
ascended from one of the vaults, _ I have been down into his vault — I 
holding a bloody knife in her hand, j have rent his ,false heart out of his 
" What do you want here ?" cried ;! body — and thus 1 serve the heart of 
she, with wild look and a harsh a traitor." With these words she 
threatening tone, as she approached tore it in pieces with both hands, 
him. The poor man, who before and then trampled it under her feet. 
she spoke had taken her for an ap- [| 



ON THE INCONGRUITIES OF MODERN ARCHITECTURE. 

TO THE EDtTOR. 

Sir, i insipidity, in which the builder (for 

I cannot but reprehend ; I will not term him architect) ap- 
that lavish and indiscriminate ap- • pea red to have studiously avoided 
plication of pompous epithets, in ever v thing resembling proportion, 
which the writers of Tours and harmony, symmetry, or character! 
Guides are but too apt to indulge, | The entrance front presented a small 
and which partake more of the putt' loggia of (he Grecian Doric, the 
of a newspaper, than of correct de- columns about eight feel high, in 
scription or judicious criticpie. I ' which was a door out of all propor- 
have some reason to complain, liar- tion, and apparently copied from a 
ing been lately led, from too flat- \ shop front. Above was a window 
tcring a description, to visit a man- of most miserable design, which, 
sion, recently erected, which was '■ with four others left entirely naked 
represented as a most elegant resi- | (not even an architrave to surround 
deuce. No powers of description, j them), tilled up this front; deep- 
er rather misrepresentation, had rated, moreover, with stripes of 
been spared; no epithet calculated. \, bricks, as apologies I suppose for 
to impress ideas of elegance, gran- ; pilasters, and lamp-irons, which al- 
deur, or beauty, had been with- most threatened to conceal the pu- 
held. What, therefore, was my j; ny columns near them. The other 
mortification on perceiving an in- front had a semicircular projection 
congruous mass of deformity and | in the center, decorated with a ve- 



272 



ON THE INTOXGRUITIES OJP MODERN A R flMT ECTC tt K. 



jandah, bearing no small rcsem- 
blance to the boxes which embel- 
lish a country tea-garden, and which 
are doubtless reckoned as standards 
of elegance by the frequenters of 
those rural Vauxhalls. In order to 
render this excrescence as conspi- 
cuous as possible, it was painted of 
a tawdry vulgar green (by the bye, 
I think it was well that the Doric 
columns were not daubed green too): 
the windows here alsd were merely 
naked apertures, but having shut- 
ters exactly like those of a brcw- 
house. The third side was as hide- 
ous a jumble as either of the for- 
mer, with <!;•' additional deformity 
of having one window over two, 
and the lower ones grated like u 
prison. The designer of this no- 
table piece of building must cer- 
tainly have been ambitious of ri- 
valling the monster of Horace, 
which would possess as ranch con- 
gruity and form, as excellent a 
whole, as this assemblage of Doric- 
columns, green verandah, brewhouse 
shutters, grated windows, <\-e. &c. 
Perhaps he was a poet — at ieast he 
has studiously adhered to the ad- 
vice of Shcnstone, where he saj-s, 

Lef. never bard consult Pnlla<lio's rules. 

Yet such is the building which 
bad been represented to me as erect- 
ed in a style of elegant simplicity ! 
a crude patchwork of discordant 
heterogeneous parts, which set uni- 
ty of character at defiance. Its 
simplicity I suppose consisted in 
its windows being left naked as by 
the bricklayer, for I perceive that 
nakedness and simplicity arc now 
employed as synonymous terms. In 



my opinion, every a pert lire requires 

some kind of decoration around i ( , 
serving to inclose it, and give it it 
finish, without which the most ele- 
gant piece of architecture must re- 
main incomplete; and indeed I can- 
not help regretting, that many build- 
ings, of beautiful design in other 
respects, should, by this absurd 
practice, be rendered so deformed 
to the eye of taste. Would any 
one be so infatuated as to think 
of improving a Venus by eradicat- 
ing her eyebrows, or shaving her 
tresses ? and yd what the eyebrow 
is to female beauty, such is its en- 
tablature to a window ; it gives a 
beautiful shadow and a finish. It 
will perhaps be urged in reply, that 
the decorations of windows are ex- 
tremely expensive and quite unne- 
cessary : so too are marble chimney- 
pieces and gill picture-frames; and, 
admirers as we are of simplicity, we 
do not yet think, that a naked aper- 
ture for a stove would add to the 
beauty of a saloon, or that produc- 
tions of the pencil would have 
greater charms, by being suspended 
against our walls just as they left 
their easels. We yet retain door- 
cases; why therefore should win- 
dows, and windows only, be loft 
unadorned? They are susceptible 
of a variety of decoration, and may, 
when judicious^ employed, tend 
greatly to add to the character of 
an edifice. They may be rendered 
either bold or delicate, simple or 
rich, and they afford great scope 
for the architect to shew his fancy 
and invention. 

\v. n. 



g73 



EXTRAORDINARY CHILD. 

Extracted from Bradford and Inskeep's Pout-Folio. 



Zerah Colburn was born at 
Cabot, in the county of Caledonia, 
and state of Vermont, on the lsl 
day of September, 1804. In the 
early part of his infancy, and until 
lie was a year old, his parents eon- 
sidered him very much inferior to 
the rest of their children, and some- 
times fearfully anticipated all (lie 
trouble and sorrow attendant on the 
maintenance of an idiot. By de- 
grees lie seemed to improve, and 
they began to conceive better hopes; 
but he was more than two years 
old before he was supposed to pos- 
sess that degree of intelligence wli ich 
usually falls to the share of our spe- 
cies. After this, his progress be- 
came more apparent ; and although 
all who saw him declared he was 
very eccentric in his manners and 
amusements, yet all acknowledged 
that he was shrewd and intelligent. 
No one, however, had yet disco- 
vered in him any inclination to the 
combinations of arithmetic, and no 
one remembers that he ever made 
any enquiries about numbers, or 
their use. As he always lived in a 
frontier town of Vermont, where 
education meets with little encou- 
ragement, and as his father's re- 
sources were few and trifling, he 
had received no instruction, and 
was in fact ignorant of the first ru- 
diments of reading. It was, there- 
fore, with unqualified astonishment, 
that his father overheard him multi- 
plying different sums merely for his 
own amusement ; and on investigat- 
ing the extent of his powers, found 
he could multiply any two numbers 
under one hundred. This happen- 

No. XLVIJ. Vol. VIII. 



ed about the beginning of August, 
1810. Immediately on this disco- 
very, the father sent him to a wo- 
man's school, such as is usually kept 
in our back settlements during the 
summer season. There he remain- 
ed until the latter part of September, 
and was taught to read a little; but 
is still completely ignorant ot figures 
and our method of using them. The 
want of artificial symbols does not, 
however, seem to embarrass him hi 
the least. Instead of them, he em- 
ploys their names, and without any 
other assistance, performs menially 
all the common operations in the 
four fundamental rules of arithme-f 
tic. He can add a column of figures 
four in height and three in width. 
He enn subtract five figures and 
divide four, lie can multiply any 
number under one hundred and by 
any number under oi;e hundred, or 
a scries of three questions, each of 
whose factors does not exceed one 
hundred. lie has also learnt by en-, 
quiry several of the different kinds 
of measure, and now reduces miles 
to rods and i'cet, and years to days, 
hours, Sec. His most remarkable 
operation is that of discovering the 
several multiples of a great number; 
and this he does with such astonish- 
ing rapidity, that the hearer cannot 
note them down as fast as he utters 
them: — Eoi.gr, when asked what 
numbers multiplied together will 
produce 1231, bfi replied instantly, 
2 x C 12, 4 X 30o\ S X 153, 3 x 
408, G X 204, 12 X 102, 24 X 51, 
9 X 136, 18 X G8, 36 x 34, and 
17 x 72. In this, and similar ope- 
rations, he probably discovers the 
O o 



274 



&N COMMERCE. 



two first factors by division, and af- 
terwards multiplies and divides these 
factors to procure the next set, and 
so on until the series is exhaust- 
ed, when he recurs to the original 
number, and making a new division, 
proceeds as before. In multiplica- 
tion he finds the multiples of one 
factor, and multiplies them succes- 
sively into the other. Thus, in mul- 
tiplying 32 by 156, instead of tak- 
ing the common mode, he says, 
J3 X 32 = 416 X 12 = 4992; be- 
cause 12 x 13 = 156. But if the 
hundreds proposed will not suffer 
this process, he first multiplies the 
hundreds, and then the tens, and 
discovers the aggregate by addition. 
His facility in multiplication arises 
in a great measure from the extent 
of his table, which, instead of com- 
prising only one hundred and forty- 
four combinations, probably com- 
prises ten thousand, as he evidently 
answers all questions whose factors 
are less than one hundred, from re- 
collection, and not from computa- 
tion. His memory is prodigious, 
and appears capable of almost in- 
definite cultivation. In his general 
disposition, he is uncommonly do- 
cile and affectionate, although he 
discovers considerable pride of opi- 
nion, and is chagrined when detect- 
ed in an error. He is remarkably in- 
quisitive, and is never satisfied with 



a superficial examination of any 
new object or fact. Music excites 
him powerfully; and next to this, 
pictures. His person is strong and 
well proportioned, except his head, 
which is much larger than usual. 
This circumstance has raised sus- 
picions, that he had been subject to 
the rickets; a disorder which has 
been supposed sometimes to pro- 
duce a prematurity of talents; but 
the father declares, that the child 
has always been healthy, and par- 
ticularly denies that he ever disco- 
vered any appearances of this dis- 
ease. 

Considering all these circumstan- 
ces, the present appears to be an un- 
parclleled instance of the early de- 
velopment of the mind. It is pre- 
posterous to compare him with the 
admirable Crichton or the blind 
Dydimus; because their faculties 
were drawn forth by the usual arti- 
fices of education ; while the j'outli 
of this child, the ignorance of his 
parents, and their relative situation 
in society, preclude the possibility 
of his having attained his present 
powers by any use of the ordinary 
means of improvement. It is cer- 
tain, therefore, that he has made 
himself what he now is, the most 
astonishing instance of premature 
skill in arithmetical combinations 
that the world ever saw. 



ON COMMERCE. 

No. XXIV. 

It is with the several manufactures 
enumerated in our last, and the na- 
tural productions of their country, 
tha„t the natives of Madagascar 
carry on what trade they have; 
not by purchase and t,ale, but by 



barter, or exchanging one thing for 
another. They make no other use 
of their gold and silver which they 
obtain by their occasional traffic 
with Europeans, than to fabricate 
it into ornaments for their persons. 



O.V COMMERCE. 



27* 



It is something remarkable, that 

they have neither fair, market, nor 
public meeting of any kind for the 
carrying on this traffic; but if any 
of them are in want of any particu- 
lar thing, they go where they know 
it is to be had, or stay at home un- 
til some one comes to take away the 
surplus of any commodity they may 
have, and bring (hem in exchange 
those articles which they may be in 
want of. 

The European merchandize pro- 
per for this market, consists of 
printed linens; silver, copper, and 
and tin bracelets; small hardware;; 
haberdashery ; glass beads of all 
colours, particularly blue; long, 
or oval cornelian beads; brandy; 
Spanish and French wines ; coral; 
brass wire ; chains of the same : 
tools for smiths and carpenters ; and 
most kinds of lock-work. That a 
trade to a large amount may be 
carried on with this island, can 
tcarcely be doubled ; considering 
the variety and real usefulness of 
the articles it furnishes, and that a 
considerable vent for those above- 
named may be obtained, is also 
doubtless, from the extent and po- 
pulation of the country: but this 
is not all; intercourse with us will 
naturally create new wants, and at 
the same time excite fresh industry 
in the natives, in increasing the 
number and quantity of their com- 
modities, in order to meet and sa- 
tisfy those wants ; and such excite- 
ments are both meritorious and use- 
ful, provided that nothing be intro- 
duced to the subversion of their 
health or morals. Our situation Is 
such at this time, that, through 
Divine Providence, we are without 
a rival in these seas; and, conse- 



quently, there arc no bars against 
the industry of our artizans and 
mechanics, or the activity of our 
merchants, except the privileges of 
the East India Company, against 
whom, or their charter, we wish it 
to be clearly understood, we have no 
objection, convinced as we are, that 
their trade, if frittered away by the 
out-ports being admitted to share 
in it, will not only bring ruin upou 
them, but also on those misguided 
people who are so clamorous for 
the throwing open of the trade, and 
may ultimately prove highly inju- 
rious to the state itself. Thus much 
we say as spectators, having now 
no connection with commerce, ex- 
cept the penning of these monthly 
memoranda, and a wish still to make 
ourselves as useful as possible in 
our retirement. 

Passing over the Island of Juan 
de Lisboa, to the eastward of Mada- 
gascar, a place of no trade, and 
inhabited by Arabs, we arrive at 
the Island of Bourbon, formerly 
called Mascarcnha : its situation it> 
about J00 miles to the eastward of 
Madagascar; it is about 90 miles 
in circumference, being diversified 
by hills, vallies, and woods. It 
was therefore denominated the Eng- 
glish Forest by a Capt. Castleton, 
who visited it in 1613; but our 
nation neglecting to make a settle- 
ment there, the French took pos- 
session of the place and the whole 
island in 1GGI, and gave it the name 
which it still retains. Under their 
dominion it continued till reduced in 
July, 1810, by a British force com- 
manded by Lieut. -Colonel Keating 
and Commodore Rowley. 

MuKCATOll & Co. 

O o 2 



276 



ADMIRAL TROUBRIDGE AND PIRANESI. 
TO THE EDITOR. 



Sin, 



As your advertisement to correspondents, printed on the first pape 
»f each Number of your Repository, invites information upon all subjects relating 
to the aris, I trust the following anecdote regarding the works of the unrivalled 
Piranesi, will be found sufficiently interesting to the readersof that publication, to 
Warrant its insertion therein. The authenticity of the anecdote I vouch for, and I 
inclose, for your private satisfaction, the names of all the parties concerned. 

I am, Sir, 

Your obedient Servant, 

H. L. C. 



A very few years since, when j 
the late Admiral Sir Thomas Trou- , 
bridge commanded a small squadron 
detached from the fleet under Earl 
St. Vincent, and was then cruising 
off the Italian shores, amongst many 
other captures made by his vigilant 
frigates, was one, an armed brig 
of the enemy, under the national 
flag, which was principally laden 
with property plundered from the 
unfortunate Italians by their re- 
morseless and perfidious conquerors, 
the French. 

It was discovered by the noble 
commander of the squadron, tiiat 
this ship contained several chests, 
in which were packed the whole of* 
the copper-plates that formed the 
stupendous works of Piranesi, the 
result of a long and arduous life of 
study and labour ; and that they 
had been wrested from the descend- 
ants of this illustrious artist, to 
whom they had been bequeathed in 
perpetuity, and from the printing 
and publishing of which they de- 
rived a competency; but this was 
their sole fortune. 

The discovery of this circum- 
stance went to the heart of the Bri- 
tish admiral. He proposed to the 
ollicers and seamen who made the 
capture, to return them to the un- 
fortunate family : this was acceded 



to at once, with a general feeling 
of sympathy. Means were imme- 
diately sought for making known to 
the family, that the plates would 
be restored to them, under a gua- 
rantee from the French government 
there, that they should be held sa» 
cred to their future possession. The 
preparatory steps for their restora- 
tion being legally settled, this noble 
seaman had the gratification of re- 
ceiving the family on board his 
ship, and of presenting them with 
the whole property. He accepted 
one copy of the impressions, ac- 
companied with the blessing of those 
who were thus restored to fortune by 
his munificence. 

This work forms forty grand folia 
volumes, and in England would 
produce a splendid fortune to the 
possessor of the copyright, a com- 
plete set being frequently sold for 
from rfI00to'rfl50. 

To those who may not have seen, 
the work, it may be interesting to 
know, that Piranesi made views of 
the magnificent buildings of Rome 
and other cities of Italy; designs 
from the elegant vases, noble foun- 
tains, and various ornaments that 
adorn the palaces and gardens of 
that classic country ; and also of 
compositions taken partly from the 
ruins of the mausoleums, prisons^ 



INTELLIGENCE, LITERARY, SCIENTIFIC, &C. 



277 



and stupendous architectural re- ciate an exchange for this copy of 
mains of the ancient Romans. These Piranesi with a well-known, publish* 
lie engraved in a style entirely his cr, for certain literary works, more 
own, of unrivalled excellence, coin- portable, towards forming a select 
billing effect, masterly execution, library for the cabin of Sir Thomas's 
and every quality that the most po- ship. The copy of Piranesi has 
ctic mind, united with architectural since passed into the hands of Mr. 
genius, could effect. The admiral, Josiah Boydell, and is now in Eng- 
some time subsequent to his return laud; but the libniry was destined 
to this country, and shortly prior I tosink, with the Blenheim, in the in- 
to his last voyage, requested Mr. tal wave, that swallowed the brave, 
Tucker, the much respected secre- the generous, the ever to be lament- 
tary to Earl fit. Vincent, to nego- | cd Troubridge and his galhnt crew. 



«r...-^-x-r- -*-»--» 



INTELLIGENCE, LITER 

Mr. Ackerman'n has issued pro- j 
posals for publishing by subscrip- 
tion, in 20 monthly numbers, form- J 
ing two splendid volumes. The His- I 
tony of the University of Oxford; 
illustrated by eighty highly finished 
andcolourcd engravings, fac-similes 
of the drawings, representing exte- 
rior and interior views of the col- 
leges, halls, public buildings, and 
costume, as well as of the more strik- 
ing parts of the city ; the archi- 
tectural drawings and views by I 
Messrs. Nash, Pyne, Mackenzie, 
Pui'.m, »&:c. i\iu\ the costume by j 
Uwins. This work will be print-; 
cd uniformly with The History of 
Westminster Abbey ; and dedicat- 
ed, by permission, to the Right 
Honourable Lord Grenville, Chan- 
cellorofthe University. One thou- j 
sand copies only will be printed : to 
the first live hum! red subscribers the 
price will be 12s. per number ; to the , 
remaining five hundred it will be ad- , 
vanced to lGs. — In the course of the ; 
work will be given a Portrait of: 
Lord Grenville, after a picture i 
painted by William Owen, Esq. ! 
R. A. for the University, and en- j 
graved by Henry Meyer. 



IRV, SCIENTIFIC, &c. 

The art of Book-keeping is about 
to receive an important improve- 
ment, through the medium of a 
work now in the press, entitled The 
Perpetual Balance, or Book-keep- 
ing by double entry, upon an im- 
proved principle, exhibiting the ge- 
neral balance progressively and con- 
stantly in the Journal, without the 
aid of the Ledger. This work, 
which is the production of Mr. J. 
Lambert, author of Travels through. 
Canada and the United Stales of 
America, Sec. possesses the desir- 
able property of exhibiting, under 
every fluctuation of a merchant's 
accounts, a constant balance, from 
which the proprietor may, at one 
view, see the whole state of his 
affairs. 

Sir Philip Warwick *s Memoirs of 
the Reigh of Charles J. with a 
Continuation to the Restoration of 
Charles It. is printing in an octavo 
volume, from tiie original edition, 
with annotations by an eminent li- 
terary character. 

Mr. Oldfield will publish, in 
November next, a complete History 
of the House of Commons and Bo- 
roughs of the United Kingdom, 



278 



INTELLIGENCE, LITERARY, SCIENTIFIC, &C. 



from the earliest period to (he pre- 
sent time, in four octavo volumes. 

Mr. Hamilton Roche, of Sudbury, 
is preparing- for (lie press, a narra- 
tive of his Tr axels in North Ame- 
rica, from Die Mississipi River (o 
.the Coast of Greenland and Hud- 
son's Bay. It will form two vo- 
lumes in quarto, and be illustrated 
with engravings. 

Mr. Johnson, surgeon of the 
royal navy, who has spent a great 
portion of his life in (he East and 
West Indies, has in the press, in 
one volume octavo, An Essay on 
the Influence of Tropical Climates, 
qiore particularly the Climate of 
India, on European Constitutions ; 
the principal effects and diseases 
induced thereby, with the means 
of obviating them. 

The celebrated theologist Dr. 
Hales, of Dublin, will speedily 
publish some Letters on the Roman 
Catholic Question, which are ex- 
pected to throw considerable light 
upon it. 

Mr. F. Francis has in the press, 
An Introduction to Geography, 
adapted to the various classes of 
learners, upon a new and easy prin- 
ciple. 

The African Institution intend to 
publish the last Journals received 
from Mr. Park, with the narrative of 
Isaac, his companion, for the be- 
nefit of Mr. Park's widow. 

Maria Grahame has in the press, 
in a quarto volume, a Journal of a 
Residence in India, illustrated by 
engravings from drawings taken on 
the spot. 

Painter's Palace of Pleasure is 
printing from the edition of 1575, 
in two quarto volumes, edited by 
Mr. Joseph Haselwood. 

Willis's History of Abbies and 



Churches, with additions, and me- 
moirs of the author, by the Rev, 
John Horn fray, is proposed to be 
published by subscription, in two 
octavo volumes. 

Mr. Thorn, the author of Sketch- 
es on Political Economy and His- 
tory of Aberdeen, is about to pub- 
lish The Annals of Pedestrianism t 
which will contain a complete ac- 
count of Cap(ain Barclay's extra- 
ordinary performances, with many 
anecdotes of sporting men. 

A Popular Romance, containing 
Voyages Imaginaires, is printing' 
in a large octavo volume, forming 1 
a fourth to Weber's Tales of the 
East. 

Mrs. Roberts has in the press, in 
one duodecimo volume, Rose and 
Emily, or Sketches of Youth. 

Miss Emma Parker, author of 
Elfrida and Virginia, has in the 
press, Aretas, in four volumes. 

Two new monuments, highly ho- 
nourable to the talents of Mr. Flax- 
man and Mr. Rossi, have recently 
been opened to public view in St. 
Paul's Cathedral. Mr. Rossi's is a 
memorial (o Marquis Cornwallis. 
He is described elevated on a rich 
fluted pedestal. At its base on one 
side sits a female, whose majestic 
port and ample drapery, with her 
spear and shield, denote the British, 
power in India. On the other are 
two figures, one of Bhagirtha, and 
the other of India, who is looking 
up at (he marquis wi(h an atlilude 
and look of regretful solicitude and 
fondness. Her tenderness and soft- 
ened grace form a beautiful contrast 
(o the sterner elegance of the mar- 
tial figure first mentioned. The 
whole constitutes a magnificent mass 
of statuary. — The monument to 
Lord Howe is one of Mr. Flaxman's 



INTELLIGENCE, LITERARY, SCIENTIFIC, &C. 



279 



best performances. The naval 
power of Great Britain is charac- 
terized by a female in the matured 
vigour of life and conscious digni- 
ty of aspect ; her head helmeted ; 
in her hand a trident, and sitting on 
a pedestal, from the sides of which 
project parts of ships, whose heads 
arc beautiful females, in the regal 
insignia of a robe, sceptre, and a 
crown, and with globes in their 
hands, indicative of the nautical 
pre-eminence and rule of Britannia 
throughout the world. On the 
keels, and in slight relief, sea-horses 
and naiads are sculptured. All 
these objects surmount a pedestal, 
in front of which stands the hero of 
the piece. With one hand resting 
on his hip, the other holding and 
resting on a spying-glass, and his 
head gently turned on one side, he 
at once exhibits an easj', graceful, 
and manly carriage. His patrician 
robe, while it designates his civil 
rank, qualifies the familiarity of his 
modern dress, and by being seen 
behind his extended arms, makes a 
more compact and agreeable mass 
of object than if it were omitted. 
On one side of him, and at his feet, 
is a lion couchant, and on the other 
two young females. One is a Vic- 
tory standing with a laurel wreath 
ID one hand, which she holds in the 
lap of Britain's naval genius above, 
and rests the other on a Fame, who 
is kneeling to inscribe the date of the 
defeat of the Freuch fleet, and the 
relief of Gibraltar, on the pedestal. 
They possess all the artist's well- 
known elegant simplicity of drapery 
and bodily form. They are indeed 

" delightful forms, 

" By Love imagin'd, by the Graces touch'd, 
** The boast of wellpleas'd Nftture." 



The beautiful picture painted in 



fresco, by Daniel la Voltern, on 
the walls of the church of Santa 
Trinita dc Monti, at Rome, has 
lately been removed from the wall 
of the church and transferred to can- 
vas, by M. Palmaroli of Rome. The 
picture itself has always been deem- 
ed by connoisseurs worthy of being 
associated with the three master- 
pieces of art ; that is to say, the 
Transfiguration of Raphael ; the 
Crucifixion of Michael Angela ; 
and the Communion of St. Jerom 
of Domcnichino. Heretofore, all 
endeavours to transfer pictures were 
restricted to those painted on cloth 
or on wood ; but to transfer such as 
were painted in fresco on walls, 
appeared to be too bold an under- 
taking, and even hopeless. M. 
Palmaroli has, however, proved 
the contrary; but he preserves his 
method as a secret. All that is 
known of it as yet, is, that the pic- 
ture is now actually on cloth ; and 
in the same state as it wa- formerly 
seen, and that but lately, on the 
walls of the church of La Trinita. 
A German traveller, M. Frederic 
Sickler, published some months ago 
at Rome, " A map of the antiqui- 
ties in the environs of Rome; from 
Tcrracina to Ceri, Ostia and Su- 
biaco." This map is on one large 
sheet, three feet four inches high 
by two feet wide. It shews correct- 
ly the situation of more than one 
hundred ancient cities; of nearly 
three hundred Roman villas; of a 
great number of sacred woods and 
temples, in the Campagna di Roma ; 
I also the scenes of sixty-seven great 
battles; and of sevem principal 
| camps — of Porsenna, Pyrrhus, Han- 
nibal, Alaric, Tottila, and Wit- 
tiges; all of which had in their day 
sreat influence on thefatoof Rome. 



5S0 



MUSICAL REVIEW. 



This map is accompanied by an 
illustration of four sheets. We 
presume that a map of tin's nature, 
including a district so extensive, 
cannot but be useful to all readers of 
the Roman poets, historians, &c. 
who arc often unintelligible, because 
not accompanied by a map. 

The sewer now excavating in 
Hyde Park is one of the greatest 
■works of Ihe kind ever attempted in 
this country. It is intended as a 
drain to the numerous streets now 
bnilt in the neighbourhood of P.id- 
dington, and will empty itself into 
the great sewer which enfers the 
Thames at Milbank. In conse- 
quence of the height of the ground 
in Hyde Park, it became necessary, 
in order to insure a sufficient fall to 
this new sewer, to dig to a very 
great depth ; and its formation is 
carried on by the laborious and ex- 
pensive process of tunnelling. Pits 
are sunk at the distance of every 70 
yards, and the excavations are con- 
ducted in a way similnr to those of 
a coal-mine. The stratum of clay 
through which the sewer passes, is 
favourable to the process of excava- 
tion ; and is similar to that which 
"was thrown up in the formation of 
the Highgate Archway. The gra- 
vel-pits in Hyde Park are filling up 
with the clay dug from the tunnel. 

All the money onboard the Aber- 
gavenny, lost some years ago near 
Weymouth, to the amount of 
^60,000 in dollars, has been reco- 
vered by means of the diving-bell. 
The vessel has been since blown up, 
under water, to prevent the wreck 
from forming a dangerous shoal. 

The Commissioners for his Ma- 
jesty's Land Revenue have given 
notice of their intention to apply to 
Parliament next session for an Act 



to enable them to make a new 
street from Carlton-house to Port- 
land-place. The street is to be 100 
feet wide, and in a right line from 
the entrance to the grand hall of 
Carlton-house to Piccadilly, where 
(here is to be a small circus ; from 
thence it is to go northward into a 
square on the site of Rrewtr-strect, 
&c. ; it is then to lead on north- 
westward to the top of King-street 
and Swallow-slreel, and then in a 
right line to Portland-place. The 
improvement likewise embraces the 
opening a street from the east end 
of Pall-Mall to St. Martin's church, 
a square in Ihe King's-Mews, the 
opening of Jermyn-street at the end, 
and that of Charles-street into the 
Haymarkct, and King-slreetintoSt. 
James's-street. — Also, the Build- 
ing Committee of the city of Lon- 
don have marked out the ground for 
the new square intended to be built 
in Moorfields; and this extensive 
work is ordered to be carried into 
immediate execution. 

There was a report sometime ago, 
that Rontgen, the African traveller, 
employed, it is said, under the au- 
spices and at the expence of Lord 
Kinnaird, had been murdered by 
the Moors while endeavouring to 
reach Tombucloo by the caravan 
from Morocco. It is mentioned, 
however, in the German papers, 
that he is not dead ; and that letters 
have been received from him, stat- 
ing his recovery from his wounds, 
and intention to set out again as soon 
as possible. 

A letter from the Cape of Good 
Hope, dated 27th of June, 1812, 
contains the following brief, but af- 
fecting information: — "It is now 
ascertained beyond all doubt, from 
enquiries made at Mozambique, that 



31USICAL REVIEW. 



SSI 



the adventurous, but unfortunate 
1 v which left Hi is place about 
ion i v rs ago to penetrate info the 
in , had proceeded within thir- 

ty miles of Soffala when they were 
all murdered] — It is not a little re- 
markable, that these ill-fated travel- 
lers should have perished within 
the limits of a European colony, 
after haying proceeded with safety 
through so large a portion of Africa. 
They had even got their waggons 
with them. All the particulars we 
can learn arc — that they had been en- 
tertained by a party of the natives in 
Ike Course of the day, and had parted 
apparently good friends, but in the 
middle of the night they were sur- 
prized and massacred. No papers, 
instruments, &c. were saved." 



MUSICAL REVIEW. 

J^Ojfrande a T Innocence, Savoy- 
ardc et Musette, for the Piano- 
Forte, composed, and respectfully 
dedicated to Miss James, by J. 
Mugnie. Pr. 4s . 
W e know none of Mr. M.'s com- 
positions (and the impression which 
some of them have made upon us is 
still fresh in our memory) to which 
we could, in many respects, avow 
greater partiality, than to the one 
before us. The first movement, an 
andante in C major, is replete with 
specimens of a refined musical taste : 
the accompaniment of the left hand, 
rather difficult) is admirably con- 
trived ; and the numerous graces 
which the author has judiciously 
introduced, give to the whole an 
c fleet of delicate finishing. This 
andante is happily relieved by the 
" Savoyarde," the theme of which, 
in A minor, possesses strong features 
of a wild, capricious originality, 
and, in its turn, derives contrast 
No. XLVTI. Vol. VUI. 



from the interpolation of an inter- 
mediate major part. The last of the 
three movements, a " Musette," in 
C, is distinguished by the pastoral 
smoothness of its subject; and we 
are aware of the happy effect of the 
A b, which, in the elegant termi- 
nation of the second part, occasion- 
ally obtrudes itself on the accompa- 
niment of the left hand. Although 
thin publication is less difficult than 
some others of Mr. M.'s perform- 
ances, it requires, nevertheless, an 
experienced player to do justice 
to it. 

Ticelxe Voluntaries, for the Organ 
or Piano- Forte, composed by 
William Russell, Mus. [}ac. Ox- 
en, Organist of the Foundling 
Hospital and St. Ann's Lime- 
house. Book II. Pr. 10s. fid. 
This is really music! such as the 
ephemeral frivolity of the present 
time has rendered a rara avis in 
ttrris. To thovc who have been 
fortunate enough to hear Mr. Rus- 
sell's performance on the organ, and 
at the same time were capable of 
appreciating its excellencies, (lie 
name of the composer alone will be 
an ample security for the intrinsic 
value of the present publication. 
IJuf, as many of our readers may 
not belong to that class, it is incum- 
bent on us to inform them, that, in 
our estimation, no English work of 
the present day exhibits greater 
proof* of musical erudition, of clas- 
sic taste, and of composilorial skill 
and judgment. To enter into aii 
enumeration of the sterling beauties 
of the numerous movements, csj>e? 
cially the truly Hac/iinn fugues, 
contained in the twelve voluntaries, 
would lead to a discussion far be- 
yond our limits ; nor will we ven- 
ture to name any of the pieces lu 
P r 



288 



MUSICAL REVIEW. 



•which our own individual taste pre- I 
ferably inclines. Wliereall is good, j 
it is difficult, and indeed unneces- 
sary, to say whieh is best. Altho' 
the organ undoubtedly is the most 
proper vehicle of this kind of com- 
position, yet the appropriation to 
the piano-forte, mentioned on the 
title-page, is by no means (as is 
frequently now the case with publi- 
cations for the harp) a dead letter. 
Zealous amateurs of the piano-forte 
"will not only derivea fund of delight 
from these Voluntaries, but also ex- 
tend their musical knowledge consi- 
derably by studying them attentive- 
ly. As a means of instruction, there- 
fore, Mr. Russell's labour is not the 
least valuable. — One word more, 
lest we be misunderstood ! Our 
recommendation must be considered 
as only addressed to the select class 
of those that feel a relish for good 
music. To all others we exclaim, 
■with Virgil, " Procul abeste pro- 
fani !" To recommend a work like 
this to the musical vulgar, that de- 
light in faldera and tweedle-dum 
abortions, would be throwing pearls 

before . 

" Oh say, my Sister ," sung (and 
accompanied on the Cymbals) by 
Mrs. Johnstone, at the Theatre 
Royal, Covent-Garden, compos- 
ed by II. R. Bishop. Pr. Is. 6d. 
Both the movements of which this 
easy and neat song consists (an an- 
dantino in the pastoral manner and 
a quick-march theme) are conceiv- 
ed in a cheerful, lively style : the 
way in which they are made to 
succeed each other, and in which 
the cymbals fall in, produces much 
good effect, especially in the reso- 
lute symphony, p. 3. But the con- 
clusion of the repetition of the mo- 
t'ivo (p. 2, b. 7), where a perfect 



cadence ought io afford the ear 
complete repose, is objectionable, 
inasmuch as the inversion of the 
chord of the 7th into the chord of 
G, 2, 4, 6, is, of all the inver- 
sions of that chord, the least capa- 
ble of producing that sensation of 
repose. 

The Mariner s Adieu, a Canzonet, 
sung by Mrs. Ashe at the Pub- 
lic and Private Concerts, com- 
posed by Henry R. Bishop. Pr. 
Js. fid. 

" The Mariner's Adieu" boasts 
of a pathetic melody supported by 
a rich, and, in some bars, very 
scientific accompaniment. Theearly 
part of the melody reminded us 
strongly of " The trumpet sounds 
to victory." In our opinion, the 
accompaniment is so crowded with 
notes, as to cause an apprehension 
of the voice being overpowered, or 
at least dwindling into the character 
of a mere appendage; anerror which, 
although rapidly gaining ground in 
the German school, is very rarely in- 
deed to be complained of in English 
compositions. Among the harmo- 
nic inaccuracies in this piece, we 
have to notice concealed fifths, p. 
2, bars 5 and 6, P. F. (E b, 3,8; 
F, 3 b, 5 ;) and octaves p. 3, b. 8, 
at the first syllable of" despair." 
" Ah ! 'tis Love," a Duet, the 
words by J. B. E. arranged for 
the Piano-Forte by E. Bryan, 
of Bristol. Pr. Is. 6d. 
A pretty little duet, elegant as 
to poetry, pleasing in melody, effi- 
cient in accompaniment, and of easy 
vocal as well as instrumental exe- 
cution. Amateurs, therefore, whose 
taste seeks not for harmonic flights 
of the higher order, will find in 
this publication wherewith to pass 
a few minutes agreeably. As a hint 



MUSICAL RKV1BV. 



283 



to the composer, we would observe, || " Philly and Willy" a Duet, 



sung with the greatest applause., 
/>// Mr. and Mrs. Vaughan, fit 
Messrs. Knyxtll and Vaughan* t 
('o)ieerts (the Words fromBumt' 
Poems), composed by W. Kny- 
vett. Pr. 2s. 6J. 
in our opinion, one of (lie best 



that, from the frequent repetition 

of his molivo, too great a gameiiess 

lias crept into his labour. The two 

first lines (beginning from the voice) f 

embrace every phrase, excepting I 

I he short conclusion, recurring in 

the whole performance ; and the 

tonic is, throughout, never departed I vocal compositions of Mr. K.'s 

from. A little aberration into the;' that we Know of. The melody is 

dominant, a;ul another new idea or elegant, and closely adapted to the 

two, especially in the a-duc parts, ' several turns of the text. In the 

would have infused every requisite accompaniment, not only a proper 

relief and variety into this otherwise degree of science is conspicuous, 

creditable specimen of the compo- but the instruments have frequently 



scrs taste and abilities. 
A favourite slow Movement and 
Hondo for the Piano- Forte, com- 
posed by E. Valentine. Pr. 2s. 
As an amusing trifle, this short 
performance may be allowed its 
(urn in the practice of the student. 
There is a neat slow movement ; 
and the rondo, although of by no 
means an uncommon subject, offers 
some points of interest, such as the 
parages /;. 3, the preparation lead- 
ing from the minor to the major 
(p. .9, /. t))j and several judiciously 
introduced crossings of I he hand. 
A slow Movement and favourite 
Air, arranged as a Hondo for 
the Piano- Forte (with additional 
Kcj/s), by Mr. (iuest, of lJury 
St. Edmund's. Pr. Is. OA. 
Another bagatelle, easy of exe- 
cution, and light in texture, such 
as a composer of any experience 



to follow the singers in tasteful pas- 
sages of their own, perfectly inde- 
pendent of the voice, whose a-due 
parts, too, are occasionally diverg- 
ing or approaching in skilful coun- 
ter-motion. We might extend our 
notice to a great length by advert- 
ing to the various happy ideas and 
turns of select harmony pervading 
this duct; but shall content our- 
selves with a glance at the fourth 
page, where a beautiful accompa- 
niment altogether, but especially in 
the second line, cannot be passed 
over in silence : at the entrance 
into four flats, too, in (he last line, 
our praise is due to another display 
of beautiful and scientific instru- 
mental support. But enough has 
been said to impress our readers 
with an adequate opinion of the va- 
lue of this highly meritorious per- 
formance. 



would invent as quickly as his pen jj A Sonata for the Piano-Torle, 



Could travel. The bass surely might 
have admitted of a little more vari- 
ety, than the continual semiqua- 

vered harpeggios or octaves from 
beginning to end. Otherwise, \»e 
are not aware of tiny radical obi c« 
tion against allowing this piece a 
place on the desk of beginners. 



with an Accompaniment for a 
J'iolin, eo).'; posed, and dedicated 
to Miss C. A. II. SI: inner, of 
Fiaibadocs, by Timothy Wall. 
Op. 2. Pr. Is. 

The favourable opinion we con- 
ceived of this author's abilities, by 
the perusal of his Op. I, noticed 
P v 2 



284 



MCSICAL REVIEW. 



in a preceding Number, sniffers no 
abatement by the consideration of 
the present performance of his. 
The first allegro of this sonata, in 
G, displays marks of a cultivated 
musical taste, and of considerable 
experience in composition : the 
modulations in the various keys are 
skilfully contrived,, and (he intro- 
duction of the part in two flats, p. 5, 
produces an adequate effect. There 
is no slow movement ; but a second 
allegro, in the same key, is remark- 
able, on account of the original, 
and, indeed, whimsical idea of sud- 
denly interpolating here and there 
a few bars of the adagio in the 
midst of the allegro. The effect is 
not amiss, at all events, it is some- 
thing new, which is no small merit 
in the present dearth of novelty in 
musical conception. 
Ditto ditto ditto? composed^ and de- 
dicated to Miss Cummins ) of 
Barbadocs, by Ditto. Op. 3. 
Pr. 4s. 

The style of this sonata, the third 
and last of Mr. W.'s recent publi- 
cations, is similar to the one before 
mentioned. It comprises an allegro 
and rondo in two sharps, without 
an intermediate slow movement. 
The former is spirited , and some of 
its modulations are far from being 
common-place ; and the rondo, with 
its neat plain theme, proceeds satis- 
factorily according to the establish- 
ed character of that species of move- 
ment. If we were, however, to 
draw a parallel between the three 
sonatas of Mr. W. the present one 
would share a less portion of our 
favour, as possessing a compara- 
tively less degree of fanciful inven- 
tion, and probably evincing not an 
equal care in the harmonic arrange- 
ment. Thus ? for instance, in the 



first line of p. 14, the transition fo 
the chord of E minor is certainly 
not of a stamp to bear comparison 
with other specimens of Mr. W.'s 
abilities. 

Here awa' there azaa\ a favourite 
Scotch Air, with six Variations 
and Coda for the Piano- Forte, 
by F. Lanza. Pr. 2s. Sd. 
The very manner in which Mr. 
L. has harmonized the theme of 
these variations, promised to us sub- 
sequent excelkncy; and our ex- 
pectations were not disappointed. 
The 2d variation, with its flowing 
quavers througl} the chromatic scale, 
is a masterly production, similar in 
effect to one of Dussek's variations 
to " God save the King." The 
fourth, in F minor, is another spe- 
cimen of the author's science, no 
less than his feelings only the few 
semiquaver passages towards the 
end, appeared to us to break the 
impression of tranquil chastencs* 
which the preceding strains cannot 
fail to excite Wr a " mind for music 
formed." Bn-t besides these, of a 
graver character, the livelier con- 
ceptions of other parts of the pub- 
lication before us, such as var. 3, 
and the allegretto in ' time, are no 
less meritorious. All is really very 
good, and,, under the hands of a 
clever player (which it rather re- 
quires) " Here awa T there awa r " 
will unquestionably make good the 
truth of our critique- 
A grand Synfonic, original/// writ- 
ten for a full Orchestre, arrang- 
ed for the Piano- Forte, with a 
Flute Accorirpaniment , composed, 
and dedicated to Miss Vere and 
Miss C. Vere, by J. Jay, Mus. 
Doc. Cantab. Op. 19. Pr. 5s. 
As we have never heard Mr. Jay's 
symphony executed by a full or- 



.-yrsicAT. TtEvir.w. 



285 



clicstra, we can but form an imper- 
fect judgment of its merit from the 
piano-forte extract before us. It 
consists of only two movements, an 
Bndantino and an allegro, both in 
C In the former wc discover proofs 
of the author's skill and science, 
particularly in the beginning of the 
second part, where he passes suc- 
cessively and successfully through 
a range of select chords, although 
we think the transition from I) 
minor to G major too suddenly 
brought about. The allegro claims 



upon the chord of I'] four sharps. 
For our own part wc feel no objec- 
tion to such licence, on the contra- 
ry, attended as it is here With an 
impression of bold originality, wc 
were pleased with its effect. In the 
rest of this page Mr. J. skilfully pro- 
ceeds, by means of select synco- 
pations (expressive of succeeding 
nones), through a more regular 
range of allied chords, alternately 
representing one or other of his 
fundamental subjects, to a pause in 
the inverted chord of the seventh of 



our especial notice : it reminds us I) (G 2 & b) &c. The above few re- 
of the celebrated overture to the j' marks may suffice to exemplify the 
Magic Flute. T/ike Mozart, our \' manner in -which the author has 



author has contrived to form a con- 
gruous whole from very few mate- 
rials. Three brief phrases consti- 



treated his subject, and convey an 
idea of the effect which his labour 
must produce when duly executed 



tutc the ground-work of the whole i by a full orchestra ; for the piano- 
movement. These, successively as- I] forte compression of such a work, 
•igned to different instruments (for however carefully and judiciously 
such wc guess to be the plan of the ' arranged, and even supported by a 



full score), and carefully blended 
and dovetailed into, although ap- 
parently independent of, each other, 
tend all to the same end, and, how- 
ever artfully thrown into protean 
shapes, constantly keep alive the 
recollection of the primary ideas. I 
Thus much on the general plot. 
In regard to the diction itself, as] 
our limits will not allow us to enter i 
into a detail of the author's profuse 



display of science, we shall just 11 flute is the principal instr 
cast our eye on one page, by way \\ and the piano-forte acts ge 



of illustration of our assertion. 
Page 8 we find him in the 7th of 
G, from which (/. 1), by rather a 
sudden leap (which, in our opinion, 
would have been rendered less ha- 
zardous by the interpolation of C 
minor, See.) he alights in A b, 
whence, after some delicate respon- 
sive interlocutions, he, by a much 
more venturesome effort} falls plump 



flute accompaniment, can only be 
considered as the outline of the 
musical picture. 

Three Themes, viz. the txerttian 
Lullaby by Miiidtt, Oh DoUc 
Coneento, (uul Sul Marginc, tcilk 
Variations lit il/JJ'rrent Movements 
for the Flute and Piano- Forte, 
by J. I)ahme;i, First Flute at 
Amsterdam. Op. .07. Pr. 4s. 
This publication, in which the 

inment, 
ucrally 

as accompaniment, deserves the at- 
' tent ton of the experienced flutist. 
, He willbegratified by an abundance 
i of elegant passages, well adapted to 
i the character of the instrument, 
and richly supported by an effici- 
ent accompaniment. In the several 
variations deduced from the three 
(hemes, we perceive throughout 
traces of a cultivated musical taste 



28G 



MUSICAL ItfiVIEW. 



and a happy facility of invention. 
In the 1st theme, the 1st variation 
("in semiquavers), and the 3d (a de- 
licate adagio), attracted our especial 
notice. The 2d theme is through- 
out treated with great success ; the 
precision of the triplet passages 
var. 2, the adagio var. 3, and the 
fluent and well connected semiqua- 
vers in var. 3, as well as the neat 
coda, cannot fail of obtaining ample 
favour. The third theme^ likewise, 
has been managed with equal abili- 
ty. In short, our readers may be 
assured, that these variations belong 
to that class of good music which, 
without entering into harmonic ab- 
struscnesses, pleases both the com- 
mon ear and that of the scientific 
musician. 

Select Irish, Scottish, and Welch 
Melodies, arranged as Rondos 
for the Flute and Piano- Forte, 
or as Flute Solos, by Mr. Corri. 
No. VI. Pr. Is. 6d. 
Ditto, ditto, by Ditto. No. VII. 
Pr. ls.6d. 

The theme of No. VI. is " Roy's 
"Wife of Aldivaloch," of No. VII. 
" Robin Adair." That the author, 
" Mr. Corri," is not Mr. P. A. 
Corri, we ascertain from the con- 
tents,which certainly cannot enter in- 
to competition with Mr. Dahmen's 
Variations noticed in the preceding 
article. Nor would we recommend, 
as the title does, No. VI. as a flute 
solo, except to an asthmatic per- 
former, who occasionally stands in 
need of from 4 to 7 bars rest occur- 
ring in the flute part. As, however, 
the piano-forte part is not depend- 
ant on the flute, and as the price of 
these numbers is very moderate, 
they may find favour with players 
desirous of variety, and not over 
fastidious in their choice. 



! Vingtieme el dernier Pot-pourri 
pour le Piano- Forte, compose 
par D. Steibclt. Pr. 4s. 
We are acquainted with several 
! of Mr. Steibell's " pots-pourris," 
I and can safely aver that the one 
before us is not inferior to any of 
j (hero. The subjects of the present 
melody are borrowed from Paesiello, 
Cimarosa, Pleyel, Haydn, Mozart, 
J &c. ; and its great merit consists in 
! the skill with which one theme is 
blended info the next succeeding, 
\ so as to render the transition scarcely 
perceptible to the player. The 
harmonic arrangement, likewise, 
and the original deductions from the 
I several subjects, claim our warmest 
; approbation. Among the latter 
class, we have to commend the fine 
passages introduced in the moderato 
of Cimarosa (p. 3), and the origi- 
nal ideas engrafted upon the minor 
theme of Paesiello's Don Juan, re- 
introduced pp. 6 and 7. The suc- 
ceeding slow movement from the 
opera of (Edipus, with its endless 
demidemisemiquavers has proved 
a tormenting manoeuvre to our di- 
gital powers; and we heartily wish 
our musical friends safely through 
its performance. The variations, on 
a theme from the Magic Flute are 
charming, and may truly be pro- 
posed as models for this species of 
composition : frequently four dif- 
ferent parts, producing the richest 
harmony, are assigned to (he two 
hands. We were delighted with 
var. 5, in C minor ; var. 6 is mould- 
ed into an elegant polacca ; and in 
the 8th var. the theme is pastoral- 
ized with uncommon sweetness; and 
it is from this variation that the 
author insensibly merges into his 
primary minor subject from Don 
Juan, which he adopts as the foun- 



HISTORICAL SKETCH OF DRURY-LANE THEATRE. 



587 



elation for tlie close of this Interest- 
ing publication. 

To those who can distinguish true 
musical genius, originality, science, 
and delicacy of expression, this 
medley of Air. Steibclfs will afford 



Oh Cam Armonia, a favourite 
Air, with Variations for the Pi- 
ano- Forte and Flute Accompa- 
niment, composed by W. A. Mo- 
zart. Pr. Is. (id. 
This little publication suggests 



the highest treat; but we ought to precisely the same observations, with 

add, that none but players of con- j regard to its author and the want of 

siderable proficiency will be capa- j a second part to the theme and the 

blc of giving due effect to the au- j variations, as the preceding, cspe- 

thor's conceptions. j cially as in this instance Mozart's 

Colombo, or Tortorclla, a favour- ! air has a second part so very fit for 

itc Air, zoith Variations for the the purpose of variation, that the 

Piano- Forte and Flute Arcoin- ] omission is the greater matter of 

paniment, composed by \V. A. < surprise. Jn other respects we have 

Mozart. Pr. Is. 6d. every reason to think well of this 

That is to say, the Theme by I small performance. 'J he variations 



Mozart, the variations and arrange- 
ment by an anonymous author, who 
might have stated his name without 



are conceived with taste, and offer 
much variety of treatment. No. 4 
has an interesting bass, and theada- 



fear, since (he manner in which he i gio bar at the end falling into the 
has treated his subject is perfectly i diminished seventh, has a striking 



proper and creditable. The 5th 
variation is pretty ; in the 6th we 
have to commend a good and ori- 



effect, only the li in the bass of the 
| last chord renders the cadence in- 
| complete. The change of time from 



ginal base; and var. 8, which con- | « to f, var. G, is ingeniously con- 
cludes the whole, deserves our un- | trived, and the appendage of the 
qualified approbation. A second ' allegro in the last page conformable 
part to the theme, as well as the j to the original. 
variations, would have rendered this 
piece more regular and complete. 



PL. 31.— HISTORICAL SKETCH OF DRURY-LANE THEATRE. 



The extensive pile which forms 
the subject of the accompanying > 
print , when considered under all the 
circumstances of its erection, is most 
creditable to the talents of Mr. 
B. Wyatt. The design is in the Io- 
nic style. In considering this work 
with reference to all the difficulties 
which its ingenious projector had to 
contend against, we cannot with- 
hold our unqualified approbation : 
but tbat the structure, with regard 



to its actual appearance, is greatly 
inferior to Ihc line model exhibited 
at Mr. "NVyall's house, we lament 
to say is so apparent, (hat, were we 
to judge of his talents by the build- 
ing itself, we should be far, very far 
short of doing him justice. 

We do not mean to throw any 
censure upon the committee who 
withheld the accomplishment of his 
plan. This, like most other archi- 
tectural works, was to be executed 



2SS 



HISTORICAL SKETCH OF DRURY-LANE THEATRE. 



on a large scale, but at an expence 
limited by their fund; added to 
which, the whole of so stupendous 
a pile was to be executed within 
twelve months, from (he laying of 
the first stone; the Theatre having 
been opened on October 10, IS 12. 

We can scarcely form too high an 
estimation of the talents of an ar- 
chitect, whose comprehensive mind 
can embrace all the ramifications of 
a building thus extensive, so as to as- 
sign tf> every workman his separate 
employment, each one tending to 
advance the whole, without embar- 
rassment, until its completion. The 
rapidity with which every part of 
this structure was got together, has 
afforded to the contemplative mind 
a subject of the highest interest. 
In paying this just compliment to 
the genius and capacity of Mr. Ben- 
jamin Wyatt, we cannot but recur 
to the great work of ihe late Theatre 
designed and erected by Mr. Hol- 
land, and to that of Covent-Gar- 
den, which, as if by magic, rose 
from its foundation within ten 
months, under the superintendence 
of Mr. Smirke. It is gratifying to 
reflect, that the two last Theatres 
were projected by you n^ men, and 
we augur much from these fine spe- 
cimens of their architectural skill. 

The first Theatre that appeared 
upon this site, was erected in the 
year 1662, not long after the demo- 
lition of the Globe Theatre in South- 
wark, where the dramatic produc- 
tions of our immortal bard were per- 
formed in his time. This new Thea- 
tre, however, was destrojed by fire 
ten years afterwards, and was re- 
built in 1674. On the stage of this 
house the British Roscius made his 
-first appearance, September 1742 ; 
and here his transcendant talents 



delighted and astonished the public, 
until he retired from the stage in 
1776. 

Garrick became manager and joint 
proprietor of Drury-lane Theatre 
with Mr. Lacy in 1747; and about 
1765, enlarged the house, and made 
great alterations and improvements 
in the internal decorations. About the 
same time the late Mr. de Louther- 
bourg was appointed to the super- 
intendence of thescenic department, 
and subsequently of the costume. It 
was from this epoch that the stage 
assumed a new character, when fit- 
ness in all that related to a play, 
began to be attended to; the bur- 
lesque anachronisms of dress, &c. 
were abandoned, and each charac- 
ter appeared attired with due refer- 
ence to historical costume. 

This venerable Theatre was pull- 
ed down in the year 1791, and was 
rebuilt, upon a very enlarged and 
superb plan, in 1794, by the late 
Mr. Holland, at the expence of 
2£200 ,000. This noble fabric was 
destroyed by fire on the night of the 
24th of February, 1S09. 

This misfortune, which so closely 
followed the demolition of Covent- 
Garden Theatre, by the same de- 
structive element, not only destroy- 
ed the whole property of the house, 
but deprived a great number of in- 
irenious and respectable persons of 
their employment, and in some in- 
stances produced extreme distress. 

In less than a quarter of an hour 
after the first discovery of the fire, 
which was soon after eleven o'clock, 
the conflagration spread over the 
immensefabric in one unbroken mass 
of flame, extending from Brydges- 
street to Drury-lane. This tremen- 
dous pillar of fire was 450 feet in 
breadth, and ascended to a stupen- 






''JETLABI? .'STAIMZE 



FASHION' ABLE FURNITURE, 



2S9 



dous height; the effect of which from 
most parts of the metropolis, parti- 
cularly from flic bridges and (lie 
South wark side of the Thames, was 
awfully sublime, and, abstracted of 
the misery which such a calamity 
must ever produce, was a spectacle 
of magnificence beyond the power 
of description. Such was the fury 
with which the conflagration raged, 
that, within thirty-five minutes of 
its commencement, the whole of the 
roof fell in with a tremendous crash. 

It is worthy of remark, that al- 
UlOUgh two extensive reservoirs of 
\v;i("i had been formed upon the top, 
sufficient to inundate tlie lions;-, 
they could not be used in time, and 
the iron curtain which separated ihv 
audience from the stage, dividing 
(he building in the center, intended, 
in case of fire, to save at least one 
half of the edifice, had become so 
rotten, and the machinery so im- 
practicable, that it v,;is removed but 
a short time before the catastrophe. | 

Such was the sensation which I 
this awful conflagration created in i 
the town, that many members of j 
parliament, the house (hen being i 



met, left their seats, and went (o 
Westminster bridge to view the 
flames. 

It would be doing injustice were 
we to omit noticing the manly, dig- 
nified, and patriotic spirit manifest- 
( cd on this occasion by Mr. Sheri- 
dan, whose interests were so deeply 
involved in (his catastrophe. lie 
was in the House of Commons when 
he received the fir>l intelligence of 
the fire ; and though he was evident- 
ly much a fleeted by the shock, yet 
when some of (he members, with a 
generous feeling, proposed to ad- 
journ the debate, in which he was 
expected to take a part, he sum- 
moned fortitude enough to say, that 
" however lamentable the event 
might be to himself, he thought it 
not of such a nature as that it ought 
io interrupt the business of the na- 
tion." 

The loss sustained by this sudden 
calamity, including, with the build- 
ing, (he extensive property of all 
sorts in scenery, machinery, dress- 
es, decoration, music, instruments, 
plays, &c. could not be restored 
for a sum under j£500,000. 



Plate 30.— FASIIIONARLK FURNITURE. 



Tun candalabrum represented in 
the annexed engraving, has been 
admired for its simple elegance, and 
is expressly designed in conformity 
to that general taste for uniting 
plainness with elegance, which pre- 
vails amongst (he genteel class of 
the British public. 

The table partakes of the same 
character, simplicity of form, en- 
riched, but not overloaded with 
ornament. This piece of furniture 
may be appropriated to many con- 
venient purposes. It may be used 

No. XLV1L Vol. VIII. 



with a portable desk for writing, for 
work, for the game of chess, or 
other amusing games that occupy 
but two persons. Neither of these 
specimens is of expensive execu- 
tion. 

The foot-stool may afFord a hint 
to those ladies who are desirous of 
exercising (heir taste on such ele- 
gant appendages to their siUing- 
roou). A sfool of (his form, it is 
presumed, would appear handsome 
if covered with painted velvet. 

Qq 



?90 



RETROSPECT OF POLITICS. 



SPAIX. 
Northern Provinces. 
Whatever may be (lie final 
issue of the war in Spain, the cam- 
paign of the present year will ever 
form an important and glorious por- 
tion in the history of our empire, 
and the battle of Salamanca be 
numbered among the greatest vic- 
tories ever gained by a British gene- 
ral. That three hours' fighting in 
one remote comer of Spain, of 
about a league's extent, has, like 
an electric shock, totally changed 
the aspect of the war in the whole 
Peninsula, overturned all the ene- 
my's plans, struck with dread his 
several armies, and torn from them \ 
the tranquil possession of vast pro- j 
vinces, where they had established 
the dominion of their wretched ty- J 
rant on apparently the most solid 
foundations. 

Much, much indeed, remains 
yet to be done ; but the genius of 
Wellington and his restless activity, 
if duly supported by his country, 
and by the nation he combats for, 
from whom he has at last obtained 
the rank and authority of Generalis- 
simo over all the Spanish armies, 
will, we have no doubt, accomplish 
the task so brilliantly commenced. 
We left our hero last at Madrid, 
resting his brave victorious soldiers, 
and perhaps waiting for the junction 
of General Maitland's corps. It 
was a short repose ; . for our present 
narrative will now have to follow 
him to no less a distance than 
Burgos. 

After the undisturbed expedition 
of the French General Foy towards 
Astorg-T, detailed in our last, the 



discomfited army under General 
Clausel grew bold again, drew 
southward along the Pisuerga, oc- 
cupied Valladolid, extended along 
the northern banks of the Douro, 
and pressed the advanced posts of 
General Anson's cavalry at Tudela 
on that river. These demonstrations 
determined Lord Wellington to beat 
up once more the quarters of the 
army of Portugal. He quitted Ma- 
drid on the 1st September, leaving, 
for the protection of that city, the 
third division at Madrid, the fourth 
at Escurial, and the German heavy 
cavalry at St. Ildefonso ; and hav- 
ing collected the rest of the army 
at Arevalo, marched from thence 
on the 4th, crossed the Douro on 
the 6th, and entered, once more, 
Valladolid on the 7th. At his ap- 
proach the French army retired 
northwards along the Pisuerga, 
closely pursued by his lordship, 
who, on the 13th, arrived in Tor- 
quemada, and on the 16th was joined 
by the Galician army under General 
Santocildes. On the 17th our gene? 
ral found the enemy occupying a 
strong position at Celada del Ca- 
mino, where he would have attack- 
ed them, had they not again fled 
from his presence. They were fur- 
ther driven as far as Burgos, which 
town, * ith the exception of the 
castle, they likewise abandoned, 
together with considerable stores of 
provisions. 

The castle of Burgos had been 
converted into a fortress of consi- 
derable strength, defended by a 
double line of entrenchments, and 
further protected by a hornwork on 
St. Michel's Hill, at 200 yards dis- 



IlETROSPECT OF POLITICS* 



291 



l&nce ; and General Caflarelli, who 
appears to have joined Clfttisel, had 
left a force of 2000 select troops to 
defend these works, and by so doing 
to arrest the further progress of our 
army. Lord Wellington, however, 
having crossed the Arlanron on the* 
19th, with his characteristic rapi- 
dity, stormed the horn work of St. 
Michel's, taking 1 captain and G2 
men prisoners, and 'J pieces of can- 
non, at the expence, however, of 71 
killed arid 333 wounded. Two days 
afterwards (21st), an attempt was 
made to take the exterior lines of 
the enemy's fortifications by assault, 
which failed. Our loss on this oc- 
casion was 348 killed and wounded. 
Upon this Lord Wellington called 
in aid subterraneous co-operation ; 
a mine was sprung on the 29th, and 
(he breach it produced instantly 
stormed by an advance parly ; but 
the troops that were to have sup- 
ported them missing their way, our 
men were again driven from the 
breach, with U)3 kiiled and wound- 
ed. In further aid of our efforts, a 
battery was now raised, which, by 
the llh of October, had rendered 
the breach more practicable ; and 
a second breach being effected by 
the explosion of a second mine on 
the same evening, both were storm- 
ed immediately, and finally carried, 
at the cost of 240 men killed and 
wounded; thus at last establishing 
a lodgment wilhin the exterior lines 
of the castle of Burgos. 

How far liiis success may accele- 
rate the surrender of the «\'mison, 
we areunable to anticipate. Indeed, 
unacquainted as we arc with the lo- 
cality of the place, and not pretend- 
ing to criticise the operations of a 
captain whose talents Bonaparte 
himself has recently publicly eulo- 



gized at a dinner party of crowned 
heads in Dresden, and whom we 
adore in our hearts, it remains for 
us to rest satisfied, that there must 
have been some very cogent reasons 
to induce Lord Wellington to attack 
the castle of Burgos in ihe manner 
he hns done, and spend so much 
time before it, in preference to mask- 
ing so petty a place by a small por- 
tion of his troops, and proceeding in 
Further pursuit of the French, so as 
not to afford them fresh time to for- 
tify some new position, and strength- 
en themselves by successive arrivals 
from France. 



As we had apprehended in our 
last, the French have paid another 
visit to Bilbao. Catiarctli himself, 
at the Head of 9000 infantry and 
SCO cavalry, appearing in its neigh- 
bourhood, the brave troops of our 
allies, under General Mendizabel, 
prudently retired at his approach, 
and the French general enleied it 
once more without opposition, But 
his stay was not long, owing to 
Lord Wellington's operations in the 
north. Caflarelli left Bilbao again 
on (lie Bill of September, in order, 
as has already been staled, to form 
a junction with Ihe main army in 
(he north under Clause!. The whole 
northern coast of Spain, along the 
whole Bay of Biscay, is thus cleared 
of the enemy, wit 1 1 the exception 
'•I St. Sebastian's, Guefarin (a recent 
attempt on which, by the squadron 
under Sir Home Popham, has been 
repulsed), and S&nfona, which is 
strong, and occupied by ljOOmeu. 

It is said, that Materia has cross- 
ed the Pyrcnnees with (j000 con- 
scripts, and that he has ordered the 
approaches to France to be secured 
by fortifying the pass through the 
Q Q 2 



292 



JIETROSPFCT OF POLITICS. 



mountains. So insignificant a rein- 1 
forcement will not better much the ' 
situation of the French, who, should 
Lord Wellington obtain early pos- 
session of the castle of Burgos, will 
find themselves closely pressed on 
all sides ; our general in front, the 
Spanish troops from Biscay on their 
right flank, and on their left both 
Mina (who, on the 23d of August, 
had a sharp and successful action, 
near Pampeluna, with a corps of 
3000 men, which lie diminished one 
third); and Duran, who recently 
entered Logrono on the Ebro. 

LAST AND SOUTH OF SPAIN. 

The fugitive usurper of thethroue 
of Spain has joined Suchet at Va- 
lencia, or rather, at San Felipe, on 
the 23d of August. During the long 
march from Madrid, his troops have 
suffered considerable diminution by 
want and sickeess, by the desertion 
of the greater part of his Juramenta- 
dos (in consequence of a free pardon 
granted to them by the Spanish go- 
vernment), and, in some measure, by 
an affair part of his cavalry had on 
the road with General Bassccourt. 
The garrison of Cuenca, moreover, 
on its march to join him, near 1000 
in number, was attacked at Requcna 
(25th of August), by General V'illa- 
campa, and forced to surrender. 

Soult, likewise, has not been suf- 
fered to evacuate the south of Spain 
without molestation. The corps of 
Spaniards and British, respectively 
under the orders of General Cruz 
and Colonel Skerrett, whom our 
preceding retrospect had landed at 
Huelva and accompanied to Nie- 
bla, marched from thence upon Se- 
ville, which was still occupied by 
the French rear-guard of eight bat- 
talions and 400 cavalry, under Ge- 
neral Villalte. Onlbe27tb the allies 



arrived before that city, and assailed 
the bridge over the Guadalquivir, 
which had been partly destroyed : 
a fierce contest ensued, in which the 
Spaniards distinguished themselves; 
the French were driven into the 
town, the bridge taken and repair- 
ed with planks, furnished by the 
inhabitants amidst the enemy's fire, 
Seville reconquered inch by inch 
in its very streets, and the French 
pursued in their retreat beyond the 
town as far as the exhausted strength 
of the allies would permit. 

The enter prizing Ballasteros, as 
may be supposed, was equally active 
in following the footsteps of the re- 
treating enemy in another direc- 
tion. Near Antequera he came up 
with a corps of S000 infantry and 
2000 cavalry, on the 3d September, 
advantageously posted. These he 
attacked and dislodged with loss, 
pursued one league, and entered 
the town of Antequera. At Loxa, 
too, he had, in his further progress, 
a decisive advantage over a hostile 
column. 

The ulterior designs of Soult's 
inarch are to be divined from the 
rout he has pursued. lie has not 
moved towards Madrid, as was ap- 
prehended, but, in different columns, 
taken the road to Jaen, Baza, and 
Granada. After arriving at the 
latter cily, on the Gth, he made a 
stand to collect his array in the 
neighbourhood; and, waiting till 
joined by Drouet, put himself in 
motion again (15th September), on 
the road towards Murcia. Two 
days afterwards, Ballasteros entered 
Granada also, but will probably 
ere now have set out in a different 
direction, in consequence of orders 
he received to turn northward, and 
establish himself at Alcarez, in La 



RETROSPECT or POLITIC*. 



893 



Mancba, Sou l(, therefore, will con- 
(inue his march unmolested towards 
Valencia, effect, as Joseph Bona- 
parte did, his junction with Suchet, 
and, probably, in tin" first instance, 
undertake sonic operations against 
the. (unfortunate, we had almost 
said,) expedition of General Mait- 
land. That armament of 7500 Bri- 
tish and 3500 Spaniards, from Ma- 
jorca, under Colonel Whittingham, 
after making two feints of landing 
at Palamns, in Catalonia, and shew- 
ing itself near Valencia, actually 
disembarked, on the 10th of August, 
at Alicant, and being joined by 
Colonel Roche's division, of 3000 
men, put itself in motion on the 
15th of August, marching towards 
the interior as far as Mont forte, and 
further moving on the 17th to Elda. 
l>uf, finding th.it Joseph had join- 
ed Suchet, they retraced (heir steps, j] 
and, on the 23d, returned to Alicaut, 
where they have remained inactive j 
since, with Sachet in front, at St. 
Felipe, the pestilential fever at Ori- ! 
huela, six leagues in the rear, and 
the expectation of seeing Soult like- 
wise approach to pay them a visit, j 
Our apprehensions, therefore, for the 
safety of that army are much in- I 
creased, and the best tidings we 
could hear of them would be, that i 
they had embarked unmolested for 
some other quarter, where their co- 
operation may be more effective, 
cooped up as they now are in Ali- 
caut, and cut oft' from their commu- 
nication with any other of the allied 
armies. 

The junction of Joseph, Suchet, \ 
and Soult, by this time unquestion- 
ably effected, forms an epoch in the | 
Spanish war, their united numbers, , 
at a moderate computation, amount- ' 
ihg to no less than 60,000 effective : 



ducc them to direct their attention 
towards Madrid itself in which case 
Castile will become the theatre of 
an important struggle; for, thanks 
to the dispositions of Lord Wel- 
lington, the following measures have 
been taken, and are in preparation 
to anticipate such an event. 

General Hill, as soon as Soult 
left Seville, broke up from Kstre- 
madura towards the Tagus, which 
river he crossed with his army on 
the 20th September, continuing his 
march by Ta la vera dcla Reyua,aud 
arriving, towards the end of the 
same month, at Toledo, between 
which city and Aranjiiez thai army 
was posted, according to the latest 
accounts. 

The second and third Spanish 
army (as it is called), under Gene- 
ral Elio, after tarrying some time at 
Ilellin, in Murcia, probably i:i <\x- 
pectation of the failed junction of 
General Mai Hand, liken Lse has bro- 
ken up for Castile, and announced 
its arrival by the capture ol Cousu- 
egra and its garrison ( v 22d Septem- 
ber), a town in the very center of 
that province. 

Ballasteros, as we have already 
stated, being ordered up to Alcarez, 
hisforccSjWith (hose of II ill and Elio, 
will be within junction, and, with 
the addition of the troops left at 
and about Madrid by Lord Wel- 
lington, form an army, we hope, 
sufficiently strong to face any num- 
bers which can be brought against 
them from the side of Valencia. 

SPANISH COLONIES. 
Extinction of the Republic of Venezuela. 

The tremendous earthquake in 
the Caraccas,of the26th of .March, 
1812, has proved as effective in its 

moral results, as it had been de- 



men, a force strong enough to in- » structive in a physical point ol 



294 



B-ETROSPECT Ol POLITICS. 



view. It has overturned not only 
the rocks of Venezuela, but also up- 
set its boasted republic. Although 
in our last we have briefly alluded 
to some of the first important conse- 
quences that have resulted from that 
convulsion of nature, we shall, for 
the sake of context, briefly repeat 
the leading features of the extraor- 
dinary counter-revolution. 

The people being, partly of their 
own accord, partly by the persua- 
sion of the priesthood, impressed 
with a conviction that the earth- 
quake was a punishment of heaven, 
for renouncing their allegiance to 
Ferdinand VII. regretted the sin- 
ful step they had taken; and, with 
many persons of note, held corre- 
spondence, not only with the go- 
vernment of Porto Rico, but also 
■with the royal troops at Coro, com- 
manded by General Monteverde. 
The consequence was, that he took 
advantage of the fears of the insur- 
gents, and, with a comparatively 
small bod}' of men, marched against 
them. The loyal troops were join- 
ed by many characters of influ- 
ence, inimical to democracy. At 
this crisis the wreck of the patrio- 
tic army assembled, and the com- 
mand was given to the Marquis del 
Toro, who soon after resigned his 
commission. The command was 
next entrusted to General Miranda, 
and the army reinforced with men 
and arms. About this time congress 
dissolved, and the royal army took 
possession of Valencia; after which 
the rebel army retreated toMearcai, 
the capture of which soon took place, 
owing, as it is supposed, to the mis- 
management and inattention of Mi- 
randa, who retreated to Vittoria, 
though his army amounted to dou- 
ble that of the enemy. 



On the 6th of July, Porto (Javallo 
was taken by surprize. The loss of 
this important sea-port afforded a 
pretext to Miranda for surrendering, 
who entered into a secret armistice, 
which led to a private capitulation. 
The terms of Miranda's surrender 
were only known to oneor two of his 
particular friends. The insurgents 
of the Caraccas were dissatisfied 
with his conduct. Every one, to the 
last moment, remained peisuaded 
that Miranda had taken care of their 
safety ; but on learning the reverse, 
they fled to Laguira, to embark on 
board the vessels detained by Mi- 
randa's embargo, which was ex- 
pected to be repealed ; but on the 
capitulation being concluded, it was 
continued in the name of General 
Monteverde. 

General Miranda arrived at La- 
guira on the 30th of July, and or- 
dered the embargo to be raised, in- 
tending immediately to embark on 
board an English schooner for Cu- 
ragoa ; but the commandant refused 
to do so, made him a prisoner, con- 
fined him in a dungeon, upbraiding 
him as a traitor, and, in this exi- 
gence, declared himself for Monte- 
verde, to whom Miranda was deli- 
vered over. The ulterior fate of 
this turbulent character is not yet 
known. 

RUSSIA AND NORTH OF EUROFE. 

Bonaparte has entered — the spot 
on which Moscow zc as situated ; for 
— with a heart pierced with pity at 
the sufferings of a brave, but unfor- 
tunate people, and full of execra- 
tion against the iniquitous wretch, 
born it seems to be t-he scourge of 
the human race — we have to state, 
that Moscow, one of the richest, 
most splendid and extensive cities 
of the world, is consumed by firs 



RETROSPECT OF POLITICS. 



295 



— is no more. Rut <o the details 
of these gloomy tidings. 

We left Bonaparte last at Slako- 
vo, on the'JSth of August, on which 
day (he veteran Prince k'utusow 
took the command of the Russian 
army of the center from the hands 
of Barclay de Tolly, continuing 
the retreat, in the direction of Mos- 
cow, destitute as the plains in (In- 
line of march were found, of any 
position favourable to making ; i 
stand against an enemy superior, 
not ordy in numbers, but in military 
genius and tactic skill, and desir- 
ous as the Russian chief was to avail 
himself of the junction of a corps 
of J0,000 men of Moscow militia, 
and another equally strong, ap- 
proaching from the southern go- 
vernments, under General Milira- 
dovitch. Hence the advance of 
Bonaparte, except some slight af- 
fairs with the rear-guard, was un- 
obstructed ; and accordingly his 
loth bulletin, dated .'J 1st August, 
Reported his head-quarters at Wi- 
asma ; and the 17th at Ghjat, on 
the . r Jd September. At Borodino, 
a village about three leagues west 
of Mojaisk, a range of hills pre- 
sented localities, which, improved 
by art, were deemed sutliciently ad- 
vantageous to await the enemy in ; 
and accordingly every nerve was 
strained to form on that spot an en- 
trenched camp, which, defended 
by the mass of the Russian army, 
should arrest the strides of the in- 
vader, and secure the Eastern capi- 
tal. On the 5th September the 
French army arrived within siirht 
of the Russian lines, and, with their 
usual activity, stormed a redoubt 
apparently essential in the Russian 
line of defence. Theb'th Bonaparte 
spent in reconnoitring his oppo- 



nent's position ; and on the 7lh, at 
six in the morning, his troops were 
ordered to (he attack. A conflict 
ensued, than which the annals of 
(he human race record none more 
desperate and destructive. Of 
2b0,000 men that met on that morn- 
ing in full vigour, the sun set upon 
at least 60,000, stretched on the 
ground lifeless or wounded. The 
prcporfs of both parties, descriptive 
of that murderous contest, are be- 
fore us; both claim the victory, the 
temples of both nations have re- 
sounded with Te Dci/m.t. The 
French bulletin states, thai, by eight 
o'clock in the morning, all the Rus- 
sian entrenchments were carried ; 
and that the resistance, together 
with an attempt of the latter (o re- 
cover what they had been forced fo 
abandon, caused lliema loss of from 
40 to 50,000 men killed and wound- 
ed, whereas the loss of the French 
amounted to no more (han 10,000 
men: and in this claim of the victory, 
(he fact of Bonaparte having reached 
MojcMsk on the 10th, from whence 
the bulletin is dated, would seem to 
bear out his assertion*. On the 
other band, General k'utusow dates 
his dispatch the day after (Sth), 
front the field of battle, informs his 
-overeign qf the victory he has ob- 
tained, by repelling every attempt 
of the enemy to carry his position, 
not an " inch of which he has lost," 
confesses his loss to amount to 
30,000 men killed and wounded, 
but estimates that of the French at 
much niorc ; his sovereign rewards 
him with a liberal donation, and 
every soldier with a remuneration 
ol "five rubles ; ( he dispatch of Lo.\l 
Calhcar( re-echoes (he success : bu(, 
in spile of (his victory, Kutusow, in 
a subsequent report, announces his 



20G 



RETROSPECT OK POLITICS. 



retreat, and accounts for it by the 
severe loss he sustained at Borodino, 
and the still overpowering superio- 
rity of the enemy notwithstanding 
his recent defeat ; he further states, I 
that, distrusting the strength of his 
numbers, he had not thought it ad- 
visable to make another stand on this 
side of Moscow (altho' in a council 
of war held on that important ques- 
tion, some generals had been of a 
different opinion), and in case of a 
defeat, expose the capital to the 
ravage of an infuriated conqueror; 
and that, upon mature considera- 
tion, he had deemed it best to open 
to the enemy the road to Moscow, j 
and take a position in the southern 
neighbourhood of it. 

We shall leave the solution of | 
the question of victory to the deci- j 
sionoftlie future historian, who pro- { 
bably may be able to form his opi- 
iiion upon data hereafter to be pub- | 
lished. Subsequent events have di- | 
minished its importance; for seven j 
days after the battle of Borodino, 
•we find Bonaparte from GO to 70 
miles advanced, making his entry 
into Moscow (14th of September), 
stating the city in flames, and ac- 
cusing the Russian governor Ro- 
topchin as the incendiary of the ca- 
pital, by whose orders, as he states, 
some thousands of malefactors and 
other miscreants had set the town 
on fire. Although the resistance 
made to the French in the streets of 
Moscow, may have prompted them 
to retaliate upon the poor inhabit- 
ants with the torch, we do not think 
they themselves would wantonly 
have set (ire to a town in which they 
expected to spend their winter ; and 
therefore conceiye it not impossible, 
nay, probable, that the Russians, 



finding the city lost to th'em i form- 
ed, like the Sagunfines, the patrio- 
tic resolution of devoting their 
homes to the flames, and thus ren- 
dering the possession of the city of 
no value to the invader. If so, 
their determination is praiseworthy, 
and the success of it is already felt 
by Bonaparte. His three last bul- 
letins, as far as the 20th of Sep- 
tember, state three fourths of the 
town entirely in ashes, and no 
part completely saved except the 
Kreml, an extensive castle, or, r;:- 
iher, a town of itself, surrounded 
by walls, now his residence, add- 
ing, that the soldiers (instead of 
finding comfortable homes) arc lodg- 
ed in barracks, and that the heavy 
rains made it necessary to rest them 
from their fatigue. 

Their repose, we trust, however, 
will be a short one ; not that we can 
hope for immediate offensive opera- 
tions on the part of General Kutu- 
sow's army ; but both flanks of Bo- 
naparte's army will, ere long, find 
themselves in critical situations. — 
On the side of the Dwina, General 
Wittgenstein, since his recent vic- 
tories, has kept the army of Gene- 
ral (now Marshal) St. Cyr, closely 
within its lines at Polotsk; and the 
brave General Essen, by one or two 
successful sallies from Riga, has 
struck terror into the corps of Mac- 
dona Id, which, instead of commenc- 
ing the siege of that fortress, finds 
itself rather in a situation of a be- 
sieged garrison, and forced to en- 
trench itself in its turn. This state 
of defensive or desultory warfare, 
however, will now probably imme- 
diately cease, since it is known that 
a reinforcement of 18,000 excellent 
troops has just arrived at Riga 



ltr.TllOSPECT OF I'OMTICS. 



mi 



from Finland, and was forthwith to 

commence active operations in con- 
junction with the garrison. 

On the side of Volhynin, too, wc 
may expect an immediate change of 
affairs. The army of General Tor* 
massoff, which, owing to inferiority 
of numbers, had, in a series of minor 
engagements with ilie Austro-Saxon 
army underPrinoc Schwartzenberg, 
been compelled to yicjd some 
ground, inch by inch, and lo draw 
somewhat southward, lias, accord- 
ing to official advices from Lord 
Cathcart, been reinforced by part 
of the Russian army from the Da- 
nube, amounts now to SO, 000 men, 
and is likewise immediately to pui 
itself in motion. 

l.'pon the w hole, therefore, the situ- 
ation of Russia, ifshewill persevere 
in the contest, is not only far from de- 
sperate, but likely to become soon a 
source of alarm tothe invader. Bona- 
parte, it is true, lias, by unheard of sa- 
crifices, and with unparalleled rash- 
ness, forced a passage to Moscow; 
but, in saying that, all lie has done is 
said. lie has found a city in ruins, 
n nation every where hostile, no 
traitors, no lukewarm dupes to his 
hacknied promises and proclama- 
tions. On the contrary, from the 
grandee down to the serf, every 
heart burns to avenge tin? national 
insult and disgrace, and clings round 
a beloved sovereign, who, in a pro- 
clamation issued since the fall of 
.Moscow, has engaged to stand or 
fall with his people, and lias set be- 
fore their eyes the encouraging tx« 
ample of the Spanish nation. Let 
it be remembered, that but three 
years ago Bonaparte was in posses- 
sion of the Austrian capital, master 
ot (be fertile provinces of Austria 
and Germany, and within reach of 
.V,<. XLV1I. Vol. I' J II. 



his own frontiers, when he sustained 
that memorable defeat at Aspern, 
which, if duly followed up, would 
have terminated his career, nay his 
empire ; and all this in the finest 
season of the year : whereas, now lie 
has to dread the rigonrsofa northern 
winter in llie very heart of the Rus- 
sian monarchy. Surely such a situa- 
tion is not enviable ; and, in our 
opinion, the vast powers of his mi- 
litary genius will fall short of f!je 
giguntic task of rising superior to all 
the difficulties which must soon 
crowd upon him. 

He himself appears to be fully 
aware of the extent of these difficul- 
ties. Reinforcements are hurried 
from every part of Europe to sup- 
ply the thinned ranks of his army ; 
and, at an extraordinary secret sit- 
ting of what is called the Senate at 
Paris, a decree was passed, on 
the l>i September, ordering a new 
levy oi 120,000 youths of The con- 
scription of 1813 to be raised for 
active service, and another of 17,000 
for the defence of the interior. 

SWCDL.V. 

What we arc to state under this 
head, we are almost at a loss to judge 
of, Our eyes had been fixed on 
Sweden as a power likely to give a 
momentous cast in (lie affairs of Eu- 
rope by its co-operation with Russia : 
and although our patience had been 
repeatedly put to trial, still, after 
the recent interview of the Crown- 
Prince with Alexander, and after 
even the arrival of transports from 
England, and the marching of the 
troops to the coast, we confess wc 
contemplated the immediate sailing 
of J he S w ed i> h ex pedition as an c v en t 
near at hand. Bv.l, we lament to say, 
nothing of the kind has yet taken 
place. The troops are marched and 
H a 



29$ 



RETROSPECT OF POLITICS. 



Countermarched, the Crown-Prince 
is one day expected at one port, the 
next day at another ; a close and 
mysterious vacillation seems to be 
the order of the day in the Swedish 
counsels ; and, amid all these delu- 
sive preparations and shillings, the 
season has drawn to a close ; winter 
is approaching, and we fear we shall 
have to look to the efforts of Russia 
alone, to extricate her from the mo- 
minions struggle she is engaged in. 
We shall not swell our pages with 
the various reports, however plau- 
sible, which are assigned to the he- 
sitation and tardiness of the Crown- 
Prince in lending his aid towards 
the common cause. 

UNITED STATES OF. NORTH 
AMERICA. 

Our present report has to record 
tidings of a mixed nature ; one oc- 
currence of a disagreable descrip- 
tion, and an event exultingly glo- 
rious. But we have the cheering 
reflection, that the latter greatly out- 
balances the former in importance, 
and that the unpleasant intelligence, 
at the same time that it is of minor 
weight, does not tarnish the lustre 
of. the British character. 

To begin with the the worst. On 
the l.DUi August our frigate the 
Guerriere, Captain Dacres, carrying 
2S 18- pounders, 16 321b. carro- 
nades, 2 9-pounders, and 244 men, 
was me!, in hit. 10.20. N. and long. 
55. W. (not. far from the Great 
Bank of Newfoundland^), by the 
American frigate the Constitution, 
Captain Hull, carrying 30 24- 
pounders, 24 321b. carronades, 2 
18-pounders, and 476 men. Not- 
withstanding the superiority of the 
American (of men as stated, and of 
metal in the proportion of 15301bs. 
weight of shot to 1034), a desperate 



action ensued, in the commence- 
ment of which the Guerriere lost her 
mizen, and subsequently her main 
and foremasts, 15 killed and 78 
wounded. Thus become an un- 
manageable wreck, Captain Dacres 
struck his flag, ami it being im- 
possible to carry the ship to Ame- 
rica, she was burnt the next day by 
Captain Hull. The latter circum- 
stance alone is sufficient to convince 
the British nation, that the ship was 
bravely fought to the last, and that 
in her surrender our honour and re- 
nown for naval prowess has suffered 
no diminution, however ungrateful 
it may be to British pride to reflect, 
that this is the first British frigate 
which ever struck to an American 
frigate, or indeed to any hostile fri- 
gate for many years back. — An oc- 
currence less to be regretted, is the 
capture of the Alert, a 16-gun brig, 
by the Essex American frigate of 44 
guns, after a most sanguinary con- 
flict : and, while we are employed 
on naval matters, we will add, that 
the United States squadron under 
Commodore Rogers, which had left 
New- York on the 21st June, and 
tfhich had caused so much alarm to 
our commercial world, has returned 
to por» 7 after 70 days cruize in every 
direction over the Atlantic r during 
which it captured seven British 
merchantmen. 

Now to Canada,, to raise our spi- 
rits. An armistice had been con- 
cluded between the American Ge- 
neral Dearborn and Lieutenant-Ge- 
neral Sir George Prevost, in the con- 
templation that the rescission of the 
British Orders of Council would^ 
when communicated to the Ameri- 
can executive, put an end to the 
war. But that government, san- 
guine in its expectations of success 



nr/rnosrECT of politics. 



509 



from General Hull and his army, 
# ho "had been sent against Upper 
C annda, am! evidently animated by 
rn'corotis and inveterate enmity 
against England, immediately an- 
nulled (hat pacific arrangement; 
unfortunately fortliem ! for General 
Hull's army, to speak a la bulletin, 
exists no MO at, except in British 
gaols ; thanks to the energetic ope- 
ral ions of the brave Major-General 
Brock, our commander in Upper 
Canada. While there was nobody 
to oppose him, General Hull ravag- 
ed our territory as far as Moravia 
Town; yet, even in these incur- 
sions, the skirmishes "with the few 
British fee met, were in our favour: 
and a spirited enterprize of Captain 
Roberts on the American fort Mi- 
chilimackinack, which surrendered 
to him on the 17th June, consider- 
ably obstructed the operations of the 
American army, and gave an auspi- 
cious omen of tutu re success. But 
a reinforcement, which was rapidly 
sent toilic fort of Am!ierstbur<j( Mai- 
den), not only secured (he safety of 
that place, but compelled the ene- 
my to retreat in his turn across the 
river Detroit, and take shelter in his 
fort of that name. Here, too, he was 
not long left in peace; for General 
Brook himself, a few days after 
(13th August), arrived with a little 
band of 360 brave men at Amherst- 
blirg ; and on the 15lh erected bat- 
teries against Detroit, summoning 
General Hull to surrender', which 
he refused. Upon this, our little 
army crossed the river, in hopes to 
induce the American general to give 



miles in the rear of the British, Ge» 
ncral Brock made dispositions to 
storm the fort, in conjunction with 
the Indians who had joined him. As 
soon as General Hnll perceived our 
commauder's serious intentions, lie 
hung out the white flag, .and on the 
IGth of August surrendered himself, 
his army, and his fort to our gene- 
ral. The capitulation by which 
the American army was thus made 
prisoners, included M'Arthur's and 
all other detachments. Their to- 
tal force consisted of two troops 
cavalry, one company artillery, the 
4lh United States regiment, detach- 
ments of the first and third United 
States regiment*, three regiments 
Ohio militia, and one regiment of 
Michigan militia, in all 25Q0 men, 
of which General Brock sent the 
militia back to their homes, not to 
serve during the war. Our own 
numbers were, 30 artillerymen, l 2j9 
of the list regiment, 50 Newfound- 
land regiment, 400 Canada militia, 
and 600 Indians, in all 1JS0 men !!! 
The fart, with its stores and .j.J 
pieces of cannon, is now in our pos- 
session : and thus the campaign 
against Upper Canada has termi- 
nated by the British flag waving 
on American soil. Tin's important 
event, which has prod tided to the 
gallant general who achieved it his 
sovereign's immediate reward, bv 
an extra ribband of the Order of the 
13a th, will be allowed to outweigh 
infinitely the trifling naval reverse 
| of fortune above recited ; and it is 
! a singular coincidence, (hat Uriiain 
1 should so sorely have avenged, in a 



battle. But when it. was found Ik distant quarter, an insult from ('>.;>- 
that he declined that too, (hat he IP tain Hull, upon the' head of a general 
had detached a corps of j00 men ! of the same name, 
under Colonel M' Arthur, and thai Although, however, thesurrendec 
iiOO American cavalry were three jji of Detroit has. tor the present, om- 
it u2 



roo 



RETROSPECT OV POLITICS. 



plcfely secured Upper Canada, (he 
lower portion of that colony is 
strongly threatened with invasion 
by a numerous American army col- 
lecting on its borders under General 
Dearborn ; but the success of our 
anus in one- quarter, added to the 
general confidence we justly place 
in British valour, prevents us from 
giving way to any feelings of alarm. 
From all we have stated, it will be 
llcarlv inferred, that war is the 
watchword of the existing govern- 
ment in America, and that further 
moderation and forbearance on the 
pari of Great Britain would be 
weakness. It is under that convic- 
tion, no doubt, that a proclamation 
has at last issued from the Prince 
Regent, dated the Utli October, 
ordering reprisals to be made on the 
vessels and properly of the United 
Slates, and letters of marque to he 
granted against them; adding, with 
a true spirit of conciliation, the 
clause, thattheauthority previously 
given to our commander on the 
American station, to sign a conven- 
tion for annulling all hostile pro- 
ceedings, and restoring amity be- 
tween the two nations, shall remain 
hi ft< II force. 

MEDITERRANEAN. 

Since the happy revolution in 
Sicily, detailed in our last, the par- 
liament of that island has assidu- 
ously continued its labours towards 
the forming of a new constitution, 
without any other interruption than 
the alarm of a second u puwuVr- 
plof ," which, altho' carried into ac- 
tual execution, Aug. 12, providenti- 
ally mibsed its diabolical aim. The 
chamber of the Commons was to be 
blown up by the explosion of one 
of those thick glass bottles which 
bold many gallons, and are termed 



demi-jcans, filled with gunpowder 
and fragments of iron, and covered 
with flax, that it might not break in 
its fall. It is not yet ascertained 
from whence it was thrown, but, 
instead of going through the win- 
; dows of the House of Commons (as 
i was probably the intention of the 
miscreant), it alighted in the street 
before if, and burst. Great re- 
wards have been offered for the dis- 
j covery of the author of the infer- 
nal engine, but hitherto without 
success. 

The expedition io the Adriatic, 
j under Admiral Frcemantle, which 
j (as we now are enabled more cor- 
rectly to state than in our last) con? 
sisled of 1200 trooos, and had sailed 
1 from Zante to attacl: the Bocca di 
Caltaro, lias retimed to its old 
.quarters, on finding the object of 
(heir destination amply secured 
against the intended blow, both by 
strong works, and a force infinitely 
more numerous than what erroneous, 
information had led them to expect. 

DOMESTIC INTCLElGENCn. 

His Royal Highness the Prince 
Regent dissolved the Parliament by 
proclamation dated 29th Septem- 
ber. The elections, which were 
forthwith proceeded upon through- 
out the British empire, are nearly 
terminated, and have exhibited 
much less bustle and riot than is 
usually attendant on the exercise of 
a Briton's right of chusing his re- 
presentatives in tiie House of Com- 
mons. It is reported, that Parlia- 
ment will meet on the 24<h Novem- 
ber next, sit a few weeks, and then 
adjourn till February. 

On the 30th September a mo*t 
gratifying spectacle took place at 
the parade before the Horse Guards. 
The national pride of the British.. 










' 



FASHIONS FOR LADIES. 



*)L 



patriot was indulged with u second 
exhibition of fresh trophies wrested 
from the French armies in Spain, 
and at the same time with the sight 
of the consort and daughters of our 
beloved unfortunate monarch, the 
Prince Regent, and the royal dukes. 
Two eagles gained at the battle of 
Salamanca, two others taken at 
Madrid, and one which its bearer 
had hidden from the eyes of his con- 



querors in a river near Cindad Ro- 
drigo, and which subsequently was 
discovered, together with four other 
stands of colours, were brought for- 
ward, carried before the line in mi- 
litary pageantry, and afterward* 
added to those which already form 
a L'lorious ornament in the Military 
Chapel at Whitehall— Although 
eleven now, the number is far from 
being complete ! 



FASHIONS I 

PLATE 32. — EVENING DUES8. I 

A white crape or mull muslin pet- 
ticoat, worn over white satin, finish- 
ed round the bottom with a ball 
fringe of gold ; a crimson velvet or 
satin bodice, formed so as partially 
to expose the bosom and shoulders ; 
a short bishop's sleeve, edged with 
ball fringe, and ornamented with 
the same round the bosom and shoul- 
ders. A short sash of shaded rib- 
band, to correspond with the colour 
of the bodice, tied in short bows 
and ends in front of (he figure. 
A shepherdess's hat, composed of 
blended crimson velvet and white 
satin ; a curled ostrich feather, 
placed entirely on one side, and 
■waving tow a rds the back oft lie neck. 
The hair divided on the forehead, 
and curled on each side, rather low- 
er than of late. Treble neck-chain, 
and amulet of wrought gold ; short 
drop ear-rings, and bracelets en 
suite. Crimson velvet or satin slip- 
pers, trimmed with gold rnseffrs or 
fringe. White kill gloves, just 
avoiding the elbow. Fail of white 
and silver embossed crape, or carv- 
ed ivory. Occasional Bcsirfof white 
French silk, with embroiderpd ends 
and border, 



OR LADIES. 

i plAtb .33. ; — Parisian opera 

D It CSS. 

An evening or dinner robe, of 
I white muslin ; with short fancy 
| .ileeve, appliqued with lace, an! 
trimmed with a fall of the same ar- 
i tide round the bosom. A loose 
; robe pelisse, of celestial blue satin 
or velvet, trimmed down each side 
and round the neck with a full 
i swansdown fur, and negligently 
:] confined in the center of the bosom. 
, An imperial helmet cap, composed 
| of blue velvet, ornamented with a 
j silver bandeau and beads; a full 
I w hileostrich feather waving towards 
! one side. Necklace and fancy ear- 
. rings of pearl, or the blue satin 
bead. Slippers of blue velvet or 
! Kid, with silver clasps or small buc- 
kle. Gloves of primrose kid. 



GENERAL OBSERVATIONS ANH DE- 
SCRIPTION OS THE FASHIONS 
FOIi AUTUMN. 

There is no period of the year 
ia which fashion exhibits a greater 
variety than the present; and the 
J changeful temperature of the season 
proclaims and sanctions the diver- 
sity which prevails. We not uu- 
, : frequently observe the co>lauic gc- 



FASHIONS FOR LADIES. 



ncrnlly appropriated and adapted 
to the four quarters of Ihe year, 
displayed in one day ; so that the 
fair votaries of the fantastic goddess 
have ample scope for their inven- 
tion, as well as extensive encourage- 
ment for the exercise of their taste 
and genius. There is, however, a 
certain established style, from which 
no female can depart without en- 
dangering an application of affected 
singularity detrimental to the devi- 
ator; unless, indeed, she be •en- 
dowed with great, personal beauty, 
a correct taste, and moves in that 
exalted station which may allow of 
her influencing (by such an assump- 
tion) the taste and habits of the 
many. While, therefore, we en- 
force an attention to general style, 
■we shall dwell more particularly on 
those articles of attire which com- 
plete a fashionable tout-ensemble. 
To commence, then, with the 
Promenade and Carriage Costume. 
The pelisse and spencer of coloured 
satin or sarsnet, trimmed with silk 
fringe, and buttons a la mililairc, 
or closed in front with silver but- 
tons, small clasps, or silk frogs, 
arc generally seen on those days 
when the absence of the sun causes 
a chilly gloom : but, when his rays 
reach us through a clear and unob- 
structed medium, these adhesive 
habits are laid aside for the crape 
or silk mantle, cloak or pelerine. 
These are variously and fancifully 
constructed, but are seldom worn 
longer than the simple Spanish 
cloak ; indeed the capes a VBspmg* 
nole are now seen to decorate the 
pelisse, spencer, and high morning 
dress. The crape robe and mantle 
are very becomingly ornamented 
with broad borders of satin, the same 
colour, a contrast which produces 



the most attractive effect. Thcgip- 
sey hat of straw, the silk or satin 
bonnet, blended with plait ings and 
folds of crape, the small chip and 
straw slouch, the mountain hat of 
j willow, and satin hat of the Spanish 
| form, with puckered front, orna- 
mented with an ostrich feaiher or 
cluster of variegated rose-buds in 
moss, are each entitled to rank high 
! in their several appropriations. The 
' Wellington robe (described in Be- 
l linda's letter of a former number) is 
I now in great estimation as a ball or 
| evening dress ; as is also the Sala- 
j! manca petticoat of crape, and jacket 
|; of satin, ornamented with borders of 
[j the small Persian rose. The short po- 
lonaise of satin or sarsnet, flowing 
loose from the shoulder, with a 
crape or muslin petticoat, embroi- 
dered round the bottom in a t\\ncy 
border of blended silk and silver 
lama, is also a very elegant addition 
to this style of decoration. The 
round robe for this order is now 
j generally seen with a trnin some- 
what longer than has been admitted 
I of late. The shoulders (and indeed 
| the whole bust) is still much expos- 
; eel. The waist is constructed a be- 
coming length-. The sleeve inva- 
, rinbly short, cither in the full melon, 
. bishop's, or Circassian form, or 
more frequently as the Spanish slash. 
The satin and silk boot has made 
considerable efforts to obtain noto- 
riety as an article for full-dress, but 
with little success. Jt had only 
been partially adopted, and is now 
almost entirely confined to its proper 
sphere, the promenade and the 
carriage costume. 

The intermediate order of robes 
are generally of white muslin, a 
j walking length, finished at the bot- 
tom with borders of needlework, 



MEDICAL TlEI»()ttT. 



303 



narrow treble flounces of muslin, 
or edging of narrow lace. The 
sleeve is here either short or long, 
and very full, lied at intervals with 
hows of ribbon the colour of the 
long sosli or bracer, which is now 
a fashionable appendage to this order 
of costume. The coloured satin 
bodice is very much in request ; it 
is formed low in the bosom, either 
laced in the cottage form, or but- 
toned behind, and biassed in front 
like the girl's simple frock. Hound 
the bosom is bud flat a fine scol- 
loped lace, above which is a plait- 
ing of white net. This simple yet 



j attractive little appendage is found 

to offer a most convenient and 

l pleasing change to the round muslin 

robe. Flowers are still more general 

as decorations for the hair, than 

gems ; thoogh, in the ball-room, 

the latter can never be considered 

as inappropriate. There is little 

novelty in jewellery ornaments since 

our last, except the bioach com- 

\ posed of coloured gems, to reprc- 

■ sent natttrnl Mowers, which is likely 

j to be much in fashionable request, 

* when its ingenuity and beauty shall 

have given it publicity. 



31ED1CAL 

Ax account of the practice of a 
physician from the J5th of Sept. 
k) the 15th of October. 

Acute Diseases. — Measles, 2... 
Erysipelas, 1... Fever, 3. ..Catarrh, 
4... Acute rheumatism, 2.... Acute 
diseases of infants, 7. 

Chronic Diseases. — Asthenia, 10 

Cephalalgia and vertigo, Q 

Palsy, 2... Epilepsy, 2... Tic dou- 
loureux, 1... Dyspepsia, S...Ente- 
rodynia, 2...Gastrodynia, 4. ..Dy- 
sentery, 1... Bilious vomiting, 2... 
Abdomen tumidum, I... Dropsy, 1 
..Chronic rheumatism, (J. .Rheuma- 
tic gout, 3... Lumbago, 2... Pulmo- 
nary consumption, 3... Cough and 
dyspnoea, 15.. .Cough and hcemop- 
toe, 4...Pleurodyne, £... Worms, 
2.. Scurvy, 2.. Female com plaints, .'j. 

Since the very wet and change- 
able weather which we have for 
sometime past experienced, coughs, 
colds, and rheumatic complaints 
have increased. Fever is beginning 
to appear, and two of the cases in 
the present list assumed the typhoid 
character. One of them is already 
cured'; but the other is in a very 
malignant form, and in all proba- 



REPORT. 

bility will prove fatal ; the patient 
being advanced in years, Avith a 
constitution much impaired by iu- 
j temperance, and the disease, which 
succeeded a cold, advanced to its 
latter stage. If we do not succeed 
by very active means, in cutting 
short a fever in its very commence*- 
ment, it runs on for a considerable 
time, without medicine appealing 
to produce much e/iect. 

The tendency to putrescence in 
! this com plaint, is greatly checked 
I by acids; they prove very grateful 
| to the patient, and at the same time 
■ have a most beneficial effect upon 
; the disorder. Muriatic acid, di- 
, luted so as to be readily swallow- 
ji ed, is the best ; it allays the fe- 
brile heat, assuages the (hirst, and 
seems to correct the vitiated secre- 
| tions. Independently of the good 
effects of acids in general, this 
J acid in particular has probably 
j been introduced info practice in 
| fevers,, from its great eflieacy in 
jj destroying the power of contagion. 
Different modification! of it have 
j] been employed in the French ar- 
mies, whenever contagious diseases 



£04 



AGRICULTURAL REPORT. 



have appeared, with astonishing 
success, both by fumigation or gas, 
nnd drinking it freely in a diluted 
state. It should he used in all large 
hospitals, or wherever the air is 
vitiated in close rooms containing 
sick people ; in fact, it is a safe pre- 
caution in any contagious disorder. 



Its happy effects were lately expe- 
rienced in Spain, in a contagious 
disease which proved very fatal ; 
but in those houses in which fumi- 
gations of the oxygenized muriatic 
acid were used, the contagion did 
not spread. 



AGRICULTURAL REPORT. 



The wet weather in the early 
part of last month has been some- 
what unfavourable to tiie latter har- 
vest : a few fields of late sown bar- 
ley and oats have been exposed to 
the rains; and considerable breadths 
of beans, in consequence of the 
large leaf and great quantity of sap 
produced by the late fruitful season, 
required much field -room before 
they were fit for the cart. These 
are impressive lessons to farmers, 
and inculcate the benefit of an early 
seed-time. 

The late rains have been propi- 

ALLEGORICAL WOOD-CUT? 

MA MI 

Nos. 1 and 2 is an entirely new 
nrticlc for white beds and other fur- 
niture, which we have been favour- 
ed with from the house of Millard 
in the city ; it has a beautiful effect 
in the piece, and produces a rich 
appearance when made up. This 
handsome manufacture will be found 
desirable to persons who have large 
establishments to furnish for, as it 
wants no lining, and is sold by the 
piece at a very reasonable price : 
this and various other fashionable 
articles at Millard's, being dispos- 
ed of on a liberal plan. We under- 
stand considerable purchases of cu- 
rious foreign articles have been made 
by this house at the late great Cus- 
tom-House sales. 

No. 3 is a specimen of a new and 



tious to the wheat sowing, which is 
extending to greater breadths than 
can be recollected for many years. 

The new wheats yield well to the 
flail, and of the finest qualify: in 
many districts it is already ascer- 
tained, that the average produce 
will be double that of last year. 

Barley rises of a strong malting 
quality, and the yield abundant. 

Oats are a full corn, and very 
productive. 
F Turnips, and all the brassica tribe, 
j promise to be very productive, anil 
of prime qualify. 

WITH PATTERNS OF BRITISH 
YCTURE. 

I beautiful manufacture for ladies' 
winter dresses, from the above house, 
where it may be obtained in any 
; quantifj', and of various colours. 
| It does not exceed mediocrity in 
; price, although it possesses the use- 
| ful property of never creasing in the 
| wear; added to which, it resembles 
' the genuine China crape, by its 
falling naturally intothemost grace- 
ful folds. 

No. 4 is a pattern of a chaste and 
elegantly figured sarsnet silk, for a 
lady's evening dress. It is of a 
most pleasing colour, of neat fabric, 
and of a very delicate texture. Jt 
is sold by Messrs. George and 
Bradley, the Golden Key, Uoly- 
well-slreet, Strand. 




3Tt)e IReposttorj) 

Commerce, Manufactures, Fashions, and Politic*. 

s, Factors, ami Dealers in Fancy Goods, that come 

is Plan, are requested to send Patterns of such new Articles, 

come out; and if the requisites of Novelty, Fashion, and Elegance, are 

quantity necessary for this Magazine will be ordered. 

Ackermann, 101, Strand, London. 



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«3 



METEOROLOGICAL JOURNAL for September, 1812. 

Conducted, at Manchester, by Thomas Hanson, Esq. 



1812. 


1 Wind. 

I 


Pressure 


Temperature. 


Weather. 


Evap. 


Rain \ 


SEP. 


HI ax. 


Min. 1 


Mean. 


Max. 


Min. 1 Mean. 


1 


N W i 


30,31 


30,25 j 


30,280 


63,0° 


52,0° 57,50« 


gloomy 


_ 




2 


N Wi 


30,31 


30,23 1 


30,270 


66,0 


53,0 59,50 


gloomy 


— 




3 


S W i 


30,23 


29,93 


30,155 


69,0 


54,0 61,50 


gloomy 


"■ ■ 




4 


N E l 


29,93 


29,S5 


29,915 


66,0 


54,0 60,00 


gloomy 






O 5 


Calm 


29,95 


29,85 


29,900 


68,5 


54,0 6l,25 


gloomy 


— 




> 6 


E l 


30,00 


29,9 5 


29,975 


69,0 


46,0 [57,50 


brilliant 


— 




7 


S i 


30,04 


30,00 


30,120 


69,0 


50,0 '59,50 


brilliant 


— 




8 


S l 


30,04 


29,94 


29,990 70,0 


51,0 60,50 


brilliant 


— 


— 


9 


S i 


29,85 


29,75 


29,800 


68,0 


50,0 59,00 


rainy 


— 


— 


10 


W i 


30,20 


29,85 


30,025 


64,0 


50,0 57,00 


brilliant 


— 




U 


W l 


30,39 


30,20 


30,295 


65,0 


49,0 


57,00 


cloudy 


— 




12 


S W i 


30,40 


30.38 


30,390 


67,0 


48,5 


57,75 


brilliant 


— 




<[ 13 


IS W 2 


30,40 


30,30 


30,350 


70,0 


46,0 


58,00 


brilliant 


— 




14 


N W l 


30,30 


30,o2 


30,260 


71,0 


45,0 


53,00 


brilliant 


— 




15 


S \V i 


30,22 


30,o'J 


30,140 


67,0 


5 2,0 


59,50 


gloomy 


— 




16 


M W 1 


30,06 


29,82 


29,940 


66,o 


52,0 


59,«'0 


line 


— 


— 


J7 


N \V I 


29 95 


29, S 2 


29,885 


62,0 


49,0 


55,50 


fine 


— 




18 


N VV 2 


30,30 


29,95 


30 125 


60,0 


45,0 


52,50 


fine 


— 




19 


N W 2 


30,30 


30, 17 


30,235 


59,o 


43,0 


51,00 


cloudy 


— 




20 


W 2 


30,17 


30,05 


30,110 


64,0 


52,5 


53,25 


cloudy 


— 




SI 


N W 2 


30,05 


29,98 


30,015 


66,0 


48,0 


57,00 


fine 


— 




22 


W 2 


30,15 


29,9 s 


30,065 


64,0 


44,0 


54,00 


fine 


— 




23 


N W 2 


SO, 15 


30,13 


30,140 


63,0 


46,0 


54,50 


cloudy 


— 




24 


N W 1 


30,15 


30,10 


30,125 


60,0 


44,0 


52,00 


cloudy 


— 




25 


N W 9 


30,15 


30,10 


30,125 


62,0 


41,0 


51,50 


cloudy 


2,115 




26 


S l 


30,15 


30,08 


30,1 15 


62,0 


51,0 


56,50 


rainy 




1,900 


5 27 

23 


S l 


R0,08 


29,80 


29,940 


65,0 


55,0 


60,00 


rainy 


— 




S ] 


29,90 


29,50 


29,700 


60,0 


47,0 


53,50 


rainy 


.105 




29 


E 2 


30,15 


29,90 


30,025 


58,0 


43,0 150,50 


fine 


— 


1,500 


30 


E l 


30,15 


29,82 


29,985 


59,0 


44,0 


51,50 


gloomy 


.090 




Mean 


30,076 


Mean 56,69 




3,310 


3,400 



Mean barometrical pressure, 



RESULTS. 

tximvrm, 30.40, wind S. W. 1- 



-minimum, 29 50, wind 



30.076- 

§. 1 — Kange .90 of an inch. 

The greatest variation of pressure in 24 hours, is .70 of an inch, which was on the 28th. 

Mean temperature, 56° .69.— Maximum, 71-Hind N.VV. |-~- Minimum 41° wind N.W.i — Range 30. 

The greatest variation of pressure in 24 hohrs is 26 , which was on the 14th. 

Spaces described by the barometer, 5,1 inches— Number of changes, 1.5. 

Quantity of water evaporated from a surface of water, exposed to the action of the sun's rays 

and wind, 3-310 inches. 
Rain, &c. this month, 3-400 inches. — Number of wet days, 7 — Total rain this year, 31.690111. 

WIND. 
N N E E S E 8 S \V \V N VV Variable. Calm. 

1 3 6 3 4 12 1 

Brisk winds — Boisterous ones 0. 



Prices of Fire-Office, Mine, Doc/:, Canal, Water --Works, Brewery 
and Public Institution Shares, tire. eye. for October, 1812. 

Albipn Fire and Life Ass. £500 share, £50 
paid 



£50 



Eagle Ditto, 

Globe Ditto 

Hope Ditto 

Imperial Ditto, £500 share 

Kent Ditto 

Rock (Life) Ditto 

Sun (Fire) Ditto 

Ditto (Life) Ditto ■ . 

Scotch Mine Stock 

Ashby dc la Znrich Canal 

Birmingham Ditto 

Coventry Ditto 

Croydon Ditto 

Dudley Ditto 

Ellesraere Ditto 

Grand Junction Ditto 

Ditto Western Ditto 

Ditto Union Ditto 



,00 share, 
£48 

1 15s. dis. 
105 per sh. 

2 18s. dis. 
par 1 pm. 

45 a 46 per sh. 
3s. a 5s. pm. 
£'l6o per sh. 
5 pm. 
109 ex. div. 
20 per sh. 
585 a 590 do. 
. 808 do. 
19 a 19 15 do. 
50 a 51 10 do. 
70 do. 
207 a 208 do. 
' . 32 dis. 

. 20 do. 



Leeds and Liverpool Ditto 204 a 207 per sh. 
WOLFE 6c Co. 9, 'Change-Alley, Cornhili, 



Shropshire Canal . . £'110 per sh. 
Stourbridge Ditto 175 a lao do. 

Trent and Mersey, or Grand 

Trunk . . 1047 10 ex.d. 

London Dock, 6 percent. 105^ a 106 persh. 
West India Ditto, 9 do. . 148 do. 

Commercial Ditto, 7 do. . 140 do. 

Grand Surry Ditto, 6 do. . -117 do. 
Chelsea Water- Works . . 14 10s. do. 
East London Ditto . . 76 do. 

Keut Ditto . . 59 do. 

Portsmouth and Farlington Ditto 30 ' do. 
\\ est Middlesex Ditto .' . 4.4 do. 
Commercial Road . 110 do. 

Strand Bridge ... 44 dis. 

Vauxhall Ditto . . 45 do. 

1 0..0011 Institution . 54 a 57 per sh. 

Surry Ditto . . . . 15 do. 

Russell Ditto . . • 18 18 do. 

Dry Newspaper . . . 10s. pm. 

Gas Light Company . £lai5s.do. 

$ FORTUNE & Co. 13, Cornhili. 



>07 



METEOROLOGICAL JOURNAL for September, 1812. 

Conducted by Mr. J. GlBSON, Laboratory, Stratford, Essex. 



1818 


Wind, i 


Pi . \sure. 


Temperature. 


Weather. 


F.rap. 


Rain. 


SEP. 


Mux j 


flfin. i 


Mean. 


Mux. 


flfin. 


Mean. 


I 




30,18 


30,15 


30,165 


01" 


43» 


54,5- 


cloudy 







9 


Var. 


30, : 5 


30,10 


30,125 


65 


56 


6o,5 


clouily 


— 




3 


W 


3a, io 


29,95 


30,025 


65 


55 


60,0 


cloudy 


— 




4 


E 




89,89 


29,920 


07 


46 


56,5 


fine 


— 




• 5 


S E 




29,89 


29 925 


os 


47 


57,5 


fine 


• 23 




6 


E 


30,1)7 


89,9<» 


80,015 


69 


43 


56,0 


fine 


— 




7 


N 


.; 1,09 


30,07 


30,080 


70 


40 


55,0 


fine 


— 




B 


N E 


30,07 


39,97 


3 ",020 


74 


46 


60,0 


fine 


— 




9 


S E 


89,99 


29,97 


29,9«o 


73 


50 


6l,5 


clouds 


.41 


— 


lo 


s \x 


30,]6 


29,99 


30,075 


6a 


49 


5 8,5 


fine 


— 




1 1 
19 


s \v 
N 


3o,s; 

30,27 


30,10 
30,26 


30,215 
30,265 


68 
6s 


43 

45 


55, 5 


fine 


__ 




56,5 


fine 


<r is 


S E 


J", JO 


30,20 


30,230 


73 


43 


58,0 


fine 


— 




N \V 


30,30 


30,15 


30,175 


69 


39 


54,0 


fine 


.53 




IS 


N W 


30,15 


30,oO 


30,075 


7o 


42 


56,0 


fine 


— 




16 


N W 


30,00 


39,93 


39,965 


73 


47 


60,0 


fine 


— 




17 


s \\ 


30,05 


29,9" 


29.975 


63 


43 


53,0 


showers 


— 


.14 


18 


N W 


30,18 


30,o5 


30,1 15 


S9 


39 


49,0 


fine 


— 




•9 


> \V 


30,18 


30,15 


30,l65 


61 


48 


54,5 


fine 


.43 




O 2o 


W 


30,15 


30,06 


3o,l05 


69 


44 


50,5 


fine 


— 




SI 


S W 


30,06 


30,oO 


30,030 


73 


50 


6|,5 


fine 


— 




22 


Var. 


30,00 


30,00 


30,000 


63 


51 


5(),5 


showery 


— 


.35 


23 


N E 


30,00 


30,00 


30,000 


59 


44 


51,5 


fine 


— 




J 4 


W 


30,08 


30,00 


30,040 


57 


34 


45,5 


fine 


•57 




25 


N E 


30,0S 


30,07 


30,075 


61 


41 


51,0 


fine 






9(j 


N VY 


3o,lo 


30,08 


3O.090 


64 


42 


53,0 


clouds 




— 


D «7 


\V 


30,08 


29,88 


29,9 8 


67 


60 


63,5 


cloudy 


— 




38 


w 


29,96 


29,78 


29,870 


65 


54 


59,5 


rainy 


— 


.24 


89 


N E 


29,99 


29,96 


29,970 


60 


55 


57,5 


cloudy 


— 




311 


N B 


29,98 


29,30- 


29,950 


61 


56 


58,5 


cloudy 


.46 


.05 


Mean 


30,053 


Mean 


56,4 


Total 


8s73M 


.78m. 



R ESULTS. — Prevailing winds, westerly. — Mean height of barometer, 30,053 inches — ther- 
mometer, 56,4". — Total of evaporation, 2,73 inches. — Rain, .78 inches — in another guage, 
.74 inches. 

Noltt. — Angnst 30th. Between four and five o'clock, P. M. a sudden tornado (as it seems by 
tin' description given) ci ossed the village of Plaistow, leaving considerable traces of its violence. 
A large quantity of wheat in sheaves was can ied over a hedge into a neighbouring field : a 
fence was levelled, and about seventy oak hurdles torn out of the ground, some of which were 
Been tumbling over in the air, and fell ;it 300 yards distance. 

September 1st. A stratus on the marshes at night. — stu. and 10th. Mornings fog^y. — 12th 
paisty morning, much dew. — 14th. A fine blush on the evening twilight — a stratus on the 
maishes at night, which reflected with much brilliancy the orange colour of the sky. — 15th 
Hoar frost on the pastures in the morning — evening twilight fine, with a stratus on the 
•maishes. — 1 6th. Foggj morning — 17th. Foggy morning — rain most of the afternoon: a rich 
crimson tinge on the lower part of the evening clouds. — 18th. At sunset the sky was exten- 
sively coloured with orange, surmounted by a distinct blush of red : the colours were reflected 
jn the E. borjajofc — clear moonlight uight. — 20th, 21st, 23d, and 2.">th. Fogsjy mornings. 



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